


Leverage

by WitchyGirl99 (Witchy99)



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, How to Flirt with a Dead Body Beside You: A Guide, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:34:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 31,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28433235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witchy99/pseuds/WitchyGirl99
Summary: Kagome lowers her gun.“Motherfucker,” Inuyasha hisses, glaring first at her and then at the dead body by her feet. “That was my goddamn kill.Again.”That’s rich, coming from him. Kagome stares him dead in the eyes before shooting two more bullets into the chest of the target.Everyone has a soulmate. Everyone has a soul mark to identify them with. For an assassin like Kagome, this form of leverage will leave nothing but blood.
Relationships: Higurashi Kagome/InuYasha
Comments: 166
Kudos: 237





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NoYoureNotReal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoYoureNotReal/gifts).



> This fic is completed, but separated into parts for easy reading and editing. I'll be updating quickly.
> 
> This was the first fic I finished writing during NaNoWriMo, all thanks to the encouragement of [NoYoureNotReal](/users/NoYoureNotReal/) who literally asked if I was doing it, and while she doesn't know this, if you ask me to do anything I'll always say yes. So. This is all her fault. But that's okay, because I love her.
> 
> Yes, this is a human/assassin/soulmate AU, but there is a lot of murdering people and a fair amount of blood. Greatly inspired by the John Wick Universe, if that gives you a hint. You've been warned.

“Son of a _bitch_.”

Kagome lowers her gun with only a slightly slower fall than the dead man collapsing a few feet away. Behind her, she hears the telltale footsteps of Inuyasha, her rival. Or, well, that’s what everyone says, anyways. Hakurei’s Sicarius Hotel likes to spin the tale of their infamous hatred for one another, their clashing styles and a scorecard of deaths that are almost always tied. Well, that’s what they say if you tip the bartender well enough. No tip equals no intel, and Hakurei is a big enough city that _everyone_ wants intel.

Inuyasha stands at her side but she doesn’t look at him. In fact, both of them are still staring at the dead man on the floor, his blood slowly leaking out onto the dirty concrete. There’s a stack of cardboard boxes by him and Kagome wonders idly if anything important is inside that the blood will soak through and ruin. “Kagome,” he says, though his voice is always a growl. Good, bad, or moments away from death: he always sounds the same. “That was mine and you know it.”

“You lost him,” Kagome answers, tapping her pistol absentmindedly against her thigh. It’s a bad habit of hers when she’s bored. “I found him.”

“You shouldn’t have been here at all.” Inuyasha doesn’t sound angry though, probably because in the last five years this has happened so many times it’s impossible to count. Her stealing his kills, and him stealing hers. A sort of tit-for-tat, one that started after a situation neither of them particularly remembers. Kills tend to blend and blur, if you let them, if you’re that involved in this life.

Kagome gestures towards the dead man. “I mean, you can still call it in if you want.”

Inuyasha snorts. “For a dime? Please. My ego doesn’t hurt that much.”

Ten thousand dollars is still ten thousand dollars. Kagome knows he’s not hurting so she shrugs and grabs her cell phone. She’s close enough that with zoom, the photo IDs him well and she can claim the hit. The Processing Centre responds right away, and within moments she receives a notification of her money transfer. Not bad for an hour of sneaking around and two bullets.

There’s a sigh to her left. It sounds irritated, but he always sounds irritated. “I should have just stayed in bed.”

“Or not lost him,” Kagome comments lightly, still paying more attention to her phone.

“I fucking hate you.”

That makes her smile up at him, startlingly pleased. “No, you don’t.”

Inuyasha rolls his eyes, the click of the safety going back on before he holsters it. Kagome watches his hands, sees the thick black lines of his tattoos poking out from the sleeves. Like most people in their profession, covering up is essential. Given their highly treacherous lifestyles, covering up includes both clothing and tattoos, permanent marks to hide the most dangerous weapon of all: leverage.

And there’s no greater leverage than one’s soulmate.

“The Cave isn’t that far away,” Kagome says then, because she’s an idiot and maybe the adrenaline from the kill hasn’t dissipated completely yet. Why else would she invite her rival, the _extremely_ attractive man that she sees a handful of times a month, for drinks at some grimy bar?

For a second, Inuyasha grimaces into the distance. “The Cave? Really?”

Kagome patiently gives him another option. “Did you want to go to the Sicarius?”

His face, predictably, gets worse. “I rather just go to bed.”

_I could join you there, too_. It’s thought of but definitely not said out loud. Inuyasha found his soulmate a long time ago. Returning to his bed is probably more about returning to them. At least, that’s what Kagome thinks. Not that she really knows him, or knows anything about him. If Kagome was to make a top ten list of things she knew about the assassin, it would end after item #5: _hot as hell, great with a gun, even better at close-combat, has a soulmate, doesn’t smile but rather smirks if you work really hard for it._

“Better luck next time,” Kagome says, waving even though the gun is still in her hand.

Inuyasha doesn’t even flinch. “Fuck you.”

It’s not until the sound of him walking away completely disappears that Kagome counts to five, holding her breath before she lets it out.

Well, that happened. Inuyasha is still hot and is still overly cocky while pursuing marks. Still attractive too, fuck. What is it about him that she can never just shake?

Kagome holsters her own gun and figures she’s spent far too much time standing around a dead man. It’s kind of weird. Probably best not to do it again, if she can help it.

* * *

When Kagome turned fifteen, the soul mark started to bleed in. Every person was different but every process was the same. On April 30th at 12:08 AM, the exact date and time of her birth, Kagome felt a tingling sensation brush across the expanse of her ribs. She got up and turned on the bedroom light, blinking against the brightness even as she made her way towards her mirror. It took several moments to adjust but Kagome was excited and enthralled, desperate to know. Forcing her eyes open, she looked at her reflection: the unkept, black shoulder-length hair, her too pale skin and dark brown eyes. With a breath, she lifted her night shirt upwards, until the cotton rested just below her breasts.

There, on the left-hand side nearing the very edges of her ribs, was a tiny pink cloud. It was formless still, utterly shapeless in its first few moments of existence. It would take fifteen days to settle in and finalize, to become the mark that it was meant to be forever. The exact mark that her soulmate would wear, in the exact same place.

Kagome touched it gently and wondered at what it would be.

How she would meet them.

What they would say.

How the sparks would feel when they touched for the very first time.

Kagome stroked her soul mark with a reverence she’d never felt before, and she smiled.

* * *

Kagome fell into assassination like most people did, only she managed to somehow stay alive. She doesn’t think about it often but when she does, she goes home for the weekend and doesn’t take her work phone with her. It requires three flights, two rental cars and a bus. Most of those are unnecessary, but to keep her family alive Kagome will do anything, including quadrupling the travel time to get there in the name of shaking tails.

The one thing that bothers her was that she was never able to say goodbye. One day he was there, and then the next, he was gone.

Sighing, Kagome peeks her head around the cement pole she’s hiding behind in the underground garage. It’s just past midnight and there are only two cars left in the lot. One of them belongs to her mark. The other one probably is owned by an annoying witness she’ll need to…deal with. Kagome doesn’t kill anyone who isn’t a target, or isn’t trying to kill her. The witness could fall into the last category or they could not. She hopes they don’t. Frankly, Kagome’s tired.

It’s another thirty minutes before there’s a ding, the elevator signaling its arrival to the basement level. There’s a moment where nothing moves, where she doesn’t breathe, but then two men stroll into the parking garage, pristine suits and leather briefcases and all. Both men are quite large, but the one who isn’t as tall is the mark. His ugly nose is clear as day.

Kagome whips back around and takes one last look at her gun, getting ready.

Turns out, she’s not prepared at all.

“Here to kill me, are you?”

The question makes her bite back a sigh because _really_. How original. She wonders how fast she can get a shot off and then go running. The problem with that is a lack of ID, which means a lack of payment, which is just bad for her scorecard and her reputation at the Sicarius.

Just…irritating all around, this night is turning out to be.

“Don’t be shy,” the man calls out again, coy. “I’d like to see your face.”

“That’s what they all say,” Kagome replies. She keeps to her position behind the pole, debating. Her mark is undoubtedly packing, but is his partner? Probably. Two guns against one, which is probably closer to a fair fight but a lot more annoying. She’s likely going to bleed tonight. Ugh, laundry.

She’s just going to have to shoot them both and worry about whether the witness is packing later. Later being when he’s dead. She’ll either feel guilty as fuck or she won’t be. Probably she won’t be. This isn’t her first evil-mob-boss-in-an-underground-garage scenario.

The mark is yelling now. Kagome frowns because she tuned him out a little. Monologuing is a common dead man’s trait, and honestly? She doesn’t care for it.

Movement registers in the corner of her eye and Kagome lifts her gun to take out another man in a suit coming from the east exit. It’s only when he’s dropping to the floor that there’s another gunshot, one coming from the other side, and Kagome ducks and realizes that there are far more than just two men in the garage. In fact, there are five. _Were_ five, now four.

“All of this for little me?” Kagome asks incredulously. “Come on!”

“You think we wouldn’t recognize you, Miko?” the mark demands. “You killed my brother three months ago. I’ve been waiting for this day since.”

Kagome sighs. Of course. She wishes her memory wasn’t so bad; probably one too many hits to head. Maybe she should get Inuyasha to better train her in close-combat. That’d be nice, wouldn’t it? Professional, even.

Fuck, a bullet almost took a chunk from her shoulder. _Fuck_.

She shoots: once, twice. Two bodies drop.

“I’m the most powerful man in Hakurei,” the mark drones on. “I have every weapon, every politician, every cop under my payroll—”

Kagome’s hatred grows by the second. “You’re still going to die tonight but go off, I guess,” she shouts, mainly because it makes her feel better. She rolls on the ground, shoots another lacky, and then springs up. An ammo clip drops into her hand from her holster and the transition is smooth as she spins around, getting ready to fire—

Arms seize her from behind, one of them forcing her to drop her gun. Kagome yells out in frustration because this is _so annoying_. She drops her weight until the man staggers before pushing herself up to get enough wriggle room to kick her leg back and hit him squarely in his balls. There’s a grunt and Kagome feels his arms loosen around her. It’s the opportunity she needs to burst from his grip, crouching onto the ground for a second to reach the barely-noticeable holsters.

When the man tries to grab at her again, Kagome twists, slashing one of her knives deep into his gut. He stares at her stupidly in shock, hands still trying to twist in her hair so she takes the other knife and buries it into his neck, standing up.

She hears footsteps running. The mark has decided his plan failed after all, and now he’s trying to disappear. Absolutely _not_. Not after all that shit he made her go through, oh _hell no_. With another twist, she pulls out the knife from the dying man in her arms and throws it. It’s deadly accurate – she’s never been anything but deadly accurate – but before the knife can connect, the sneeze of a silenced pistol echoes in the underground garage and the mark falls dead.

Inuyasha swerves his body just in time to avoid a knife to the shoulder.

“You _did not_ ,” Kagome cries out, incredulity written all over her face. “After I had to kill his goddamn goons and nearly got shot—”

“You did,” Inuyasha interrupts, voice firm enough to halt her mid-speech.

“What?” She looks down at herself and yeah, whoops. There is definitely a tear in her bodysuit and that is absolutely blood slowly leaking from her side. Kagome makes a face. Fucking laundry.

“You should get it looked at,” Inuyasha suggests. He still sounds growly but there’s a difference in his tone, something that makes her jerk her head upwards to try and read his expression. There’s nothing there, of course. It’s the same scowling, handsome face that it always is. She must have been doing some more of that wishful thinking again, hoping there was something like concern in his tone. Stupid, but at this point in their five-year rivalry, Kagome’s not surprised.

Maybe she’ll meet her own soulmate one day soon. There will be sparks and it’ll be stunning, and Kagome will look at them and _know_.

Sometimes, she thinks that when she looks at Inuyasha there’s a _feeling_ there.

Then again, it could just be adrenaline. Or fond annoyance.

There’s a shutter click, overly loud in the now silent underground garage. Kagome glares with everything she’s got, but Inuyasha seems unworried as he clearly texts the photo to the Processing Centre. What a dick.

“I hate you so much,” she grits out, sauntering by him with as much dignity as she can muster to go and pick up her knife.

“No, you don’t,” Inuyasha replies. Kagome doesn’t need to look at him to know he’s smirking, pleased at himself for being so witty.

“The _worst_ ,” Kagome mutters, sheathing her knives and figuring – yeah – it’s been a day. Maybe Miroku won’t be so pissed off this time when she shows up demanding he give her stitches. It’s been at least a month since the last time and Kagome _paid_ to get the blood out of their upholstery.

“Bye, _Miko_ ,” her rival taunts.

Kagome pauses. For one, she hates that nickname, the one the bad men of Hakurei and beyond have attributed to her. She has no idea how it started, or who ever said it. One day it just became a thing and Kagome’s been rolling her eyes at it ever since. For another, the fact that Inuyasha had the _balls_ to admit that he’d been in the garage the whole time watching her get shot at—

“I knew you had it under control,” Inuyasha says then, as if reading the tension in her body.

Kagome moves so fast that the knife is out of its ankle holster and soaring through the air towards his head within seconds. Inuyasha easily dodges it, like she knew he would, but the unblinking horror on his face is enough for her to know the message has come across. Still – just in case – it’s better to tell him out loud. “You’re a jerk,” she exclaims.

Inuyasha scoffs, clearly uncaring of the fact she’s trying to leave. “We kill people for a living and the best you can come up with is ‘jerk?’ That’s your insult?”

She doesn’t respond. Kagome keeps her mouth shut and goes, disappearing into the night with quick and quiet footfalls.

“Hey! We were talking!” Inuyasha yells but his voice is further and further away. He’s not chasing her, but he is bothered by her lack of answer.

Kagome smiles to herself. That’ll teach him.

* * *

The mark came in.

It was a single cherry blossom, achingly beautiful in its colour. The thing that got Kagome every time was how real it looked. How if she reached out, she could believe for a second in time that actual petals would touch her fingertips, fragile and soft.

It felt every bit as a part of her as her hands, her eyes, her dimples.

It was nearing bedtime, fifteen days after the mark first showed, and Kagome was staring at it in the mirror. Though the lines would firm and some colours would darken, the overall image was certainly the finished product. It was so beautiful that Kagome couldn’t help but touch it yet again.

She called for her mother, who had been watching the mark change from a shapeless cloud to a pristine cherry blossom over the days. The two of them stared at it, Kagome in awe and her mother with longing and something else she couldn’t quite identify. To be fair, she was paying far more attention to her mark than her mother, which was why the next words startled her.

“My soul mark is a chrysanthemum.” It was like an admission, and a sad one at that. Kagome dropped her shirt and turned to watch her mom, a frown lining her face. She wasn’t sure where her mother was going with it so she remained silent, ready to listen. Instead of any more words though, her mother smiled. “I’m happy for you, sweetie.”

“Thanks Mom.” Her mother didn’t look happy. If anything, she looked worried and sad. Kagome touched the mark through her shirt, wondering what about it was making her be like this. Maybe it was better to just ask; she and her mother had always been close. She told her mom everything. “What do you—”

“Hello? Keiko?”

“In here,” Kagome’s mother called out, leaning so that when her father-in-law poked his head in, he’d see them both.

Grandpa had always been there for them. He’d always been the solid rock that her mother had leaned on and the one who Kagome trusted with all of her secrets. He was old and a little senile, but he cared for them all. She smiled at her grandfather as he came into her room. “We were looking at my soul mark.”

“Is it in already?” he asked.

“Tomorrow it’ll be done.”

“It’s beautiful,” her mother said then, smiling softly. “A cherry blossom.”

Her grandfather hummed and nodded. “Flowers have always been the mark of our family. A strange coincidence but there nonetheless.” With a heavy hand, he grabbed Kagome’s shoulder and shook it gently. “Your father would be proud and so, so happy.”

They were soft words but Kagome felt herself tear up. She remembered her father in bits and pieces, her brain only bringing back scattered memories her five-year-old self could hold in. Sota had barely been born, so they were all of just her and her father, or maybe even them and her mother. Kagome remembered laughter, most of all, though she was scared to ask if the sound was imagined or not. Her mother would know.

Smiling, Kagome touched her mark once more through the cotton of her shirt. This was just another way that she was a bit more like him. It made her heart swell at the thought.

* * *

Kagome sighs and looks at her phone again.

No new messages. The hit put out on the new mark hasn’t been claimed, but there’s been no additional information either. Considering the mark was supposed to be at the warehouse a solid hour ago and he’s not, Kagome thinks that either the intel was bad, or the mark is smarter than everyone gave him credit for.

It’s not that big of a deal, she supposes, swinging her legs idly over the edge of the building. It’s only just past ten o’clock, which is horrifically early for typical wet work. There’s even a chance she’ll go to bed at a normal time. She leans back on her hands, her eyeline still a perfect view of the warehouse’s only set of doors, and lets out another breath. She would rather have an extremely late-night assassination than this: waiting and bored before a typical bedtime. 

“You’re loud as shit for someone who’s trying to be subtle.”

Kagome doesn’t jump but it’s a near thing. That fucker is so lucky she’s memorized his voice by now or there’d be a bullet in his shoulder _at the very least_. “I should put a bell on you.”

There’s a grunt and then Inuyasha is sitting down a few feet away from her, his legs dangling off of the roof as well. Kagome can’t help but think he looks a hell of a lot better doing it than her, but that could just be her thirstiness again, popping up its ugly, obsessive head. Everything about him looks good; the outfit, his high ponytail, the peek of tattoos. Even his squinting at the warehouse doors is cute.

God, she hates herself.

“He’s not here,” Inuyasha says eventually. The rumble of his voice is _doing things_ to her. Kagome bites her lips and studiously doesn’t look his way, even as he continues. “I checked the ground level. Even inside the warehouse.”

“Can it even be called a warehouse?” Kagome asks, ignoring the fact that it’s an entirely useless and dumb question. Anything to distract her from the thoughts of Inuyasha sitting closer, Inuyasha grabbing her wrists and pinning them above her head while her legs dangle, Inuyasha doing whatever he wants to her while she can’t get away, while every slide of her body could be a possible slide off the roof and—

“The fuck kind of question is that?” Inuyasha asks, predictable as always.

Kagome wants to kiss him and slap him both. “A legitimate one? I mean, if it’s this small can it truly be called a warehouse?”

Her rival eyes her like she’s lost her mind, and honestly, she probably has. Too bad it isn’t because he fucked the logic right out of her. That would have been far more excusable. “Did you not sleep enough or something?”

“Is that concern I’m hearing?” she asks, blinking innocently at him, making sure to part her lips and stare in the way that always makes men do a double-take. Not all assassinations are by warehouses, and not all of them are as easy as shooting a target in an abandoned area. Hakurei is a bustling city, having grown exponentially because of its access to the area’s only shipping port. It makes the entire southern part of the city industrial, filled with barely used buildings and shipping containers and other areas of disrepute where people could go missing or be shot dead at any time.

Inuyasha scowls at her. “Concern only because a crazy you means a you that could shoot me. The knife came dangerously close last time.”

“Okay, first of all, that knife wasn’t for _you_. It was for the person you killed that was supposed to be _my kill_.” She’s still a little pissed about that. “And secondly, if I wanted to shoot you, you’d be dead already.”

“Uh-huh.” Inuyasha smirks and it’s condescending as shit.

Kagome glowers. “ _Uh-huh_ ,” she mimics, making sure to sound extra stupid. “You know that assassins aren’t supposed to be friends, right?”

“Who the fuck said we’re friends?” Inuyasha asks, grimacing at her in distaste.

“Well, we’re sitting on a roof together.”

“The doors are a clean line of sight.”

“We’re trying to kill the _same_ mark.”

“Competition is healthy.”

“Other assassins just kill their competition, you know that, right? You’ve been in the business longer than I have. You should know this.” Kagome makes sure not to look at him when she says the last bit, terrified of what she’ll see. She doesn’t even know what she _wants_ to be on his face – disgust, confusion, indifference? Would it be better if he cared, or if he didn’t?

Kagome isn’t lying: assassins don’t talk like they do. Assassins don’t hang around each other or shoot each other’s marks for the fun of it. There’s nothing _friendly_ in their brand of competition and the term ‘rival’ exists because those within the Sicarius circle are just as dumbfounded as everyone else. An assassin only has two things: loyalty to the Sicarius rules, and loyalty to themselves. Anything else is laughable because death would soon follow.

Would she go so far as to say she’s loyal to Inuyasha? No. Probably. She thinks that if he was bleeding on the floor, she might toss him a med-kit before disappearing. She wouldn’t _help him_. Just like he didn’t help her during that shootout in the garage. Every person for themselves.

So there. No loyalty to Inuyasha.

Yet, Kagome can’t help but distinctly feel the short distance between them on the narrow ledge of the roof, watching for a mark that may never come.

Suddenly, Inuyasha’s hand comes up – unarmed, but clenched in a fist. It’s the sign for a hold, for quiet, so Kagome pauses the swing of her legs and keeps herself alert. It takes only a moment to hear exactly what Inuyasha must have heard: footsteps, quiet ones that land on gravel with great care. That means only a handful of options for who it could be, but Kagome knows deep-down that this isn’t a trap. Which leaves only—

“For fuck’s sake,” Inuyasha hisses, loud enough to be heard by the man who’s now standing below them. “Why are you here?”

The man instantly raises his gun but Inuyasha already has his in hand, aimed right back without a flinch. Kagome unholsters her own but keeps it hidden, forcing her muscles to relax. It’s only Koga, after all.

Koga, yet another assassin in their legion. He’s not normally in Hakurei, so he must be here on some other form of business. It couldn’t be this particular mark, though. The individual is a high pay, but not exactly interesting or important. He just pissed off the wrong person and now is going to end up dead because of it. None of this is Koga’s usual style, which means like most assassins, he’s bored.

“You,” Koga snaps back, face instantly turning ugly. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I asked first, asshole,” Inuyasha shoots back. It’s like two peacocks jabbering at each other with their plumes out. Kagome is a little horrified. “This is my city so why don’t you just turn around with your tail between your legs and then fuck yourself on it.”

Kagome stifles a cough. Oh wow. She moves just enough though that Koga is now looking up at her, too, and she’s pretty sure that’s disappointment in his gaze.

“Kagome?” Koga asks. “Why are you with this moron?”

“‘With’ is a strong word,” she answers, shrugging. “We were just waiting.”

“Together?”

See? This is exactly what she was talking about! Kagome turns to level Inuyasha with a look but he’s pointedly ignoring her. In fact, his gun is still levelled at Koga despite the fact the other assassin has long since lowered his weapon.

Kagome sighs. “No, not together.”

“Sure looks like together,” Koga mumbles and yeah, that’s totally betrayal on his face. “Can I come up?”

“ _Fuck no_ ,” Inuyasha spits. “Go away!”

“You’re being loud,” Kagome hisses at them both, glaring in turn. “If the mark ever does show up, he’ll run away because of you two!”

“It’s this fucker’s fault,” Inuyasha retorts, and yeah, he’s waving his gun hand but it sure as hell is still aimed at Koga below. “Not mine! We were perfectly fine before.”

If by ‘perfectly fine’ he means Kagome was having a minor horny meltdown while he was blissfully unaware, then yeah. Sure. _Fine._ “Just be quiet.”

“Yeah!” Koga shouts because he, too, is an idiot. Kagome is surrounded by them. “Be quiet, Inuyasha.”

She has her gun aimed at Koga before the other assassin can even blink, and it’s obvious that he wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction by the way he falters his own weapon. “You too, asshole.”

Koga snaps. Clearly, the betrayal has become too much. “I will be letting the Sicarius Hotel know about this.”

“ _Ooooh_ ,” Inuyasha mocks, “I’m terrified.”

“Why would the Sicarius give a shit about whether we’re partners or not? Wouldn’t that be our own damn problem?” Kagome asks, confused. It’s quiet enough that only Inuyasha could hear, but he doesn’t deign to give her an answer, which whatever. Kind of a dick move but definitely his style. It’s by far his least attractive quality and yet Kagome would still climb him like a tree if given the chance right now.

Koga snorts – and wow, if she can hear it from all the way up here then that must have _hurt_ – before he starts to back away. “This city won’t always be yours, you know,” he threatens.

“I want to shoot him so badly,” Inuyasha mutters. Instead, he gives the other assassin the middle finger until he disappears.

It’s nice and quiet, for at least a solid five minutes.

“Think he’ll climb the roof to kill us both?” Kagome asks, because it’s a legitimate concern.

Inuyasha shakes his head and re-holsters his weapon. “Nah, he can’t climb things for shit. Fast as fuck with both his feet and hands, but terrible at anything requiring some sort of strength.”

“How would you know?”

“We’ve…met before.” There’s a smirk playing at his features and Kagome pointedly looks back towards the doorway of the warehouse. It’s her safe space whenever it feels like he’s too much. “In Sakata, I think. I stole his mark so he shot me in the stomach.”

Kagome can’t help but stare at him then, her eyes zeroing in on his upper body like the wound would still be visible. It’s a silly thing but all she wants to do is ruck up that shirt he’s wearing and spread her fingers over the warmth of his skin, to remind herself that he is, in fact, here. It’s shit like this that makes her wonder how much worse loving someone would be if they were her soulmate. Inuyasha is just some rival and if she can feel _this_ —

“I shot him in the foot though so it was kind of even.” Inuyasha shrugs. “My blood loss was definitely greater.”

“You’re an idiot,” she says because someone needs to say it.

He smirks at her, something far more real than she’s used to. Maybe it’s because the night is taking hold, making their surroundings darker with each minute that passes. It’s harder to see him now compared to earlier when he first sat down, but Kagome knows every inch of him anyways. It’s intimate.

It’s _terrible_ for her health. God, if Kagome ever does find her soulmate, the shock of it will probably kill her.

A rumble can be heard in the distance, slowly approaching. Both of them perk up and look towards the makeshift road the container park has, knowing that whoever is coming could be their mark. Finally.

Kagome is both relieved and annoyed.

When the car pulls up to the warehouse doors and gets out, it’s too dark to tell if it’s their mark. There’s a high likelihood, but there’s also the possibility the mark has been killed by others who are now trying to steal his shit. Either way, they need to investigate. By silent communication, the two of them slip to the other side of the roof and make their way down. There are only two men and a woman entering the building; the mark is a man so realistically it’ll be a race to kill them both and hope Kagome lands the kill.

Inuyasha glares at her, like he knows exactly what she’s thinking. Kagome smiles back innocently and then takes off.

She had cased the building when she first arrived, noting that there was virtually no cover in the square deathtrap of a warehouse. Kagome figures if they have guns, she’ll have the element of surprise. Or, rather, _they_ will. Inuyasha is right on her when they open the doors and both of them are shooting immediately. Kagome fires with a precision that’s taken years to hone. She for sure kills one of them, but it’s a guessing game as to who kills the other.

Problem is, both of them are so focused on the men that neither really pay attention to the woman.

_Big mistake_.

Kagome should have known better. Seriously. She’s not an idiot. It’s not like she was killing the men because they were _men_. Well, she was, but the reason was because her _payload_ came from a specific man. Why kill the woman when she wasn’t going to bring in any money, right?

The woman has a gun though and the woman is clearly very good with the gun. She rolls to the side, but manages to shoot Inuyasha in the thigh. Kagome gets a graze on her shoulder, a blazing pain that she ignores before she jumps onto the nearest table and lands a headshot.

“Son of a fucking bitch,” Inuyasha mutters, glaring at his leg like the hole in it has personally offended him.

Kagome kind of gets that. She also thinks that this, too, is a pretty hot look on him. She’s honestly so fucked it’s not even funny anymore.

With that realization in mind, Kagome leaps off the table and goes to check on their kills. The bullet graze is a pain but not unbearable, though she shifts the gun into that hand to use the other arm for leverage in pulling up the dead men’s heads.

“Ah-hah!” she cheers. “I killed the mark.”

“Bullshit,” Inuyasha replies instantly. He’s not even looking at her, what a jerk. What an infuriatingly hot jerk. “I killed him.”

“Bitch, as if.” Kagome takes the photo on her phone and then sends the text. Grinning at Inuyasha, she doesn’t even flinch when the full effect of his glower finally turns to her. If anything, she gets turned on, which is kind of weird because dead people are all around her and yeah, there’s definitely blood on her shirt. Again. To distract herself, she gestures towards his leg. “Want me to take you to the doctor?”

Inuyasha scowls harder but he doesn’t immediately say no. It makes her stomach flip unpleasantly, which only gets worse with each second he doesn’t answer her.

“Hello?”

“Fine,” he says. “But only because I think I’m about to bleed out.”

Kagome quickly holsters her gun and tucks away her phone. Inuyasha must be in far more pain than he’s showing because when she ducks under his arm to help him, her rival doesn’t even comment. He’s frozen for all of two seconds before he grips her, hard, and Kagome ignores the way her body practically tingles from it.

She leaves him momentarily to run and get her motorcycle a few blocks over, a little scared that when she gets back, he’ll be gone or possibly even dead. He’s alive, but it’s not looking all that great. Inuyasha is far too pale, though his hands are steady as he takes off his shirt and uses the material as a badly-done tourniquet. The motorcycle isn’t a great option to make sure he says conscious, but it’s the only option they have. Kagome forces him to cling to her tightly and slaps at him whenever she feels the grip start to loosen as they fly through the dark streets.

The Sicarius Hotel is in the heart of the downtown core, sided by two different billion-dollar businesses that are exceptionally active during the mid-week nine-to-five. Now, as they near midnight, Kagome nearly stumbles off her bike in trying to keep Inuyasha upright. The valet immediately steps in but Inuyasha growls at him to do his fucking job, so he does.

Kagome isn’t worried about her motorcycle in the _least_. But it’s fine. She has far more important things to worry about, namely getting him to the doctor in time.

As always, a young woman stands behind the large, golden desk, wearing a smile. It falters for a moment at the sight of Inuyasha, but she doesn’t pick up a phone or distract herself with any of the other people milling about. She waits patiently until they slowly, _finally_ , make their way to her.

“Kagome,” the woman says politely, inclining her head. She eyes Inuyasha with something like worry. “Inuyasha.”

“He needs a doctor now,” Kagome states, reaching into the hidden lining of her bodysuit. It takes a few fumbling tries, but eventually she produces a thin, pink jewel shard and places it on the desk.

The woman takes it easily and nods. With efficient movements, she picks up the phone and dials an extension without even looking at the numbers. To Kagome, she tilts her head. “Please make your way over. The Doctor will be in shortly.”

Inuyasha pants into the desk and Kagome wants to vomit at the sight. She doesn’t stop though, doesn’t hesitate to pick him up and drag him across the Sicarius Hotel. They’re making a scene and she knows it, but it’s either do that or let Inuyasha die. Around her, patrons are openly gaping. Some of them she recognizes by their faces, and others she recognizes by their attire. Assassins are a strange breed but after this, Kagome is pretty sure she’ll be labelled the strangest of them all.

“This is bad for business,” Inuyasha slurs on an out breath. He’s sweating profusely but Kagome ignores this in favour of getting him to the doctor’s office. “They’ll have questions.”

“It’s the Doctor of Sicarius,” Kagome tells him breezily. “He knows what we do. I don’t think he’ll really have questions.”

“No, not—” Inuyasha grunts as she braces him against the wall, practically ripping the door open to haul him inside. As promised, an old man is waiting there, short and toad-like. His massive eyes take in Inuyasha’s state and the doctor huffs, disappointed.

“Fix him,” Kagome declares, groaning as she dumps her rival into the chair. Inuyasha doesn’t even resist, completely falling into the seat with his eyes closed. Her mind is screaming how _not good_ this is, but the doctor doesn’t look worried.

“He’ll be fine,” the old man says. He’s already cutting at Inuyasha’s pants, inspecting the bullet wound. He makes a _tsk_ sound and then slaps at Inuyasha’s arm. “Baby.”

Kagome raises her eyebrows, incredulous. The doctor sneers as he gets the instruments needed to help him and the next time the old man even _thinks_ of touching him inappropriately, Kagome grabs his shoulder and spins him around to face her.

“What?” he demands, looking confused.

“Hit him like that again and I will kill you,” Kagome levels, making sure to smile.

Confusion morphs into irritation. “You cannot kill me on Sicarius grounds, you know the rules.”

“But you don’t _live_ here all the time,” she reminds him gently, tapping his shoulder with care. “And I’m very good at finding people.”

There’s a moment where Kagome thinks the old man will call for the hotel manager, but doesn’t. Instead, he gives a sharp nod and then returns to Inuyasha’s leg, going about fixing it. The second his back is turned, Kagome lets out a silent exhale, body deflating. She’s exhausted, even though it isn’t nearly as late as she’s normally up. Inuyasha isn’t conscious and there’s no point in waiting. He wouldn’t care if she was there anyways.

He wouldn’t.

Kagome swallows and then leaves the room, heading back to the front desk. The woman is still standing there, as pleasant as ever. The counter has been wiped down she sees, though there isn’t a rag or bottle of cleaner in sight.

“Are you leaving so soon?” the woman asks, dark eyes wide and imploring.

Kagome nods and then, inexplicably, her eyes dart towards the hallway where Inuyasha is being mended. A thought pops into her head and she’s stupid, she knows, but Kagome can’t help it. Rumours and whispers be damned. Quickly, she pulls out another two jewel shards and places them before the woman. “Ensure he’s taken care of and given a room. Food.”

The woman nods her head and doesn’t ask questions. Discretion has always been king at the Sicarius Hotel. It’s why they were created in the first place. “Of course, Kagome.”

There’s nothing else she can do. With one last involuntary glimpse at the hallway, Kagome forces herself to turn around and leave. Her motorcycle is already waiting for her, though the valet is different.

When she takes off into the night, there’s no freedom in the wind and darkness. The streets are no different, but her chest is. Her…body. Her mind.

Stupid feelings for a man who can never have any emotional meaning to her. He has a soulmate already. He told her so.

Kagome pushes the motorcycle to go faster and it doesn’t argue with her.

* * *

“Grandpa?”

She couldn’t find him anywhere. Kagome huffed, deciding that if he wasn’t on the main level then maybe he was in his bedroom, or possibly outside. It was a bit rainy so the best place to check first was upstairs. She went up, calling out for her grandfather once more to no avail. Where was he? His hearing wasn’t great but it wasn’t _that bad_.

His bedroom door was open, which wasn’t a strange occurrence. He often went in and out constantly throughout the day. Kagome poked her head inside but didn’t see him, and the ensuite bathroom door was open too, the lights off. She was about to resign herself to going outside when her eye caught the mess of papers on his desk, bed and even the floor. Her grandfather was hardly the tidiest person, but this was out-of-character, even for him.

Slowly, she stepped inside and bent down to pick up the pages. Her brow furrowed as she scanned them; they looked to be some kind of report. A…police report? Her heart started to beat faster, but Kagome was too confused to do more than give a cursory glance, hands automatically reaching out to get the next paper and the next. They weren’t reports but rather printed out news articles, focused on what looked to be a company called Ren International. The name was familiar but Kagome couldn’t remember why.

Straightening up, she went to the bed and gathered the papers there. Her hands reached out but stopped when she realized one of them wasn’t printed paper but an actual cut-out of a newspaper, the ink faded. It looked old, worn, like it had been read over and over and over again.

A name caught her attention: Hiroshi Higurashi.

Her father.

With shaking hands, Kagome read the article, sitting down on the mattress like her strings were cut. Never before had she seen this, and with good reason: it was an article about his death, written by a local reporter. It talked about things that Kagome already knew: her father had been mugged while walking to his car one evening after drinks with some coworkers. It had been a sort of last hurrah because he had gotten a new job, one that would allow him to work less hours so he could be home more for her mother, to help with Kagome and the newly born Sota.

He’d been mugged, attacked and left bleeding.

Kagome knew this.

What she didn’t know was that the death was suspicious. That her father had a word attached to his name: _whistleblower_. That the company he worked for had lost millions. That he should have been protected. That this never should have happened—

“Kagome?” Her grandfather stood in the door, his grey eyes flitting between her shaking hands and the papers strewn about the room. In that moment, he looked exceptionally sad, like he had failed somehow.

She swallowed the bile that was rising in her throat. She had so many questions. So many, but how did she even begin to voice them? How could she ask what wanted to spill out because it had been _her father_. Her father, who laughed with her and played with her. How had he been— How was it possible that—

“I’m so sorry,” her grandfather whispered, his hands coming to cover his face for the briefest of moments. Grief echoed in the lines of it, the sadness of his eyes when he looked back at her. “This wasn’t how we were going to tell you.”

* * *

Adding the finishing touches to her lipstick, Kagome presses her lips together and pouts at the tiny mirror in her hands. Her eyes are appropriately lined and dark, highlighter accentuating the sharpness of her cheekbones. With a smile, she puts the compact back into her clutch and gets out of the taxi, who had been idling without worry for her outside of the museum. It had been a very large tip.

The night air is cool and the breeze strong. Kagome isn’t wearing any sort of jacket or cover up, and the velvet green dress clings to her body and leaves nothing to the imagination. Her nipples are probably showing, what with the cold, but body tape can only do so much. It may even come to her advantage. She doesn’t have an invitation but she needs to get in. Scanning the crowd, she looks for someone who would be the very best target. It’s not hard, not really. The 150th Night Under the Stars Gala is filled with all of the richest, dumbest people around. Men and women who think you can throw money at things until problems go away.

Inside of those museum walls, her mark is likely mingling with other guests, possibly drinking champagne and getting buzzed.

Kagome smiles at the thought of how very wrong his night will go. First though, she needs to get inside.

The steps to the front of the museum are tiny but plentiful. She goes up slowly, legs restricted by the tightness and length of the dress. Her dark gaze is constantly searching, looking for the best target to bring her to her cause.

Of course, that’s when she finds him, already near the top.

“Shit,” she mutters under her breath, running up the last of the steps. There is no way she’s going to look a gift horse in the mouth— “Inuyasha!” she calls, giggling out the name like the woman she isn’t.

Her rival turns around, his one hand aloft with the invitation he’s about to give to security. There’s shock in his expression, there and gone when he finally sees her. Then his gaze roams, up and down, and Kagome can feel it like an inferno inside of her, blazing outwards from her chest until her entire body feels flushed.

Maybe this was not a gift horse. Maybe this was just a very, very bad idea.

Well, no time to back out. Kagome changes her smile to one she uses when she’s trying to get her way, and sidles up to him with a shamelessness that probably shocks the old woman behind her. “Darling, I thought you said you’d wait for me.”

Inuyasha’s eyebrows shoot up into his bangs. He grunts something – nothing intelligible – before he turns back to security and hands over the invitation. “You were taking too long,” is what comes out.

Kagome pouts and plasters herself all along his side. The security officer doesn’t look impressed, even when she smiles at him innocently. Inuyasha wraps his arm around her waist though, tugging her closer, and the guard doesn’t question when she’s Inuyasha’s plus-one or not. He waves them through with an air of distaste and Kagome makes sure to wink at him before disappearing.

They have to let go to go through the metal detectors, and Kagome watches as her clutch gets opened and screened by another security officer. It seems to take forever but she doesn’t worry, letting her eyes take in Inuyasha because—

Well, because.

She’s always known he’s handsome. There’s always been something about him that makes her want to jump his bones the moment he gets within a few feet of her. But what’s happening right now – on top of the _wanting to jump his bones_ thing – is an aching sort of feeling, because Inuyasha looks perfect and like he belongs. His tuxedo is immaculate, tattoos hidden, his bowtie so straight that even a gust of the chilly night wind does nothing to it. His long dark hair is tied back, loose strands framing his face, and Kagome doesn’t want to fuck him so much as make love to him.

Which is a problem for multiple reasons.

She doesn’t have time to list them all.

“Miss?” the security officer asks, and Kagome falls out of her distraction just enough to take back her clutch. She instantly slides into Inuyasha’s side, curling herself around his arm and pressing into his shoulder. It’s an act for everyone else, including Inuyasha. It’s the only opportunity, for her.

“So tell me,” Inuyasha drawls as they enter the main lobby, taking a glass of champagne proffered by a staff member. He hands the first one to her and takes another for himself. “You wouldn’t be here because of a certain private hit, would you?”

Kagome feels herself stiffen but there’s no use in hiding it. Inuyasha is holding onto her still and besides that, he’s staring at her. She was a giveaway from the very beginning. “Eh, I’m not supposed to know about private hits.”

“But somehow you do because you’re here.” He looks her up and down once more, as if he can’t help himself, and then scowls. “Why are you here, Kagome?”

“For the gala, obviously.” Taking a long sip of her champagne, she looks at her surroundings and the opulence in literally every nook and cranny. The museum is government-funded and one of the largest in the entire state. “I’ve always wanted to dress up, you know? Bodysuits are great but they always end up bloody.”

“You think that dress is going to survive the night?” The question almost chokes out of him and Kagome grins, pleased. She thinks she sees his eyes dip towards the very low V of her dress, her own tattoos visible like a band around her breasts.

“Well, since I’m not taking on a hit, how else would it get ruined?”

He doesn’t have an answer to that, but his hand clutches at her hip.

They make their way further into the museum. Plenty of sections are open for the event, elegant red velvet ropes directing traffic this way and that. Kagome lets Inuyasha lead, eyes focused more on the people than the objects they’re passing. She finishes a flute of champagne and promptly grabs another, downing it.

Inuyasha sighs but it’s more of a growl, like everything else he does. “I don’t have time to deal with a drunk you.”

“My tolerance is better than you think,” Kagome replies, gaze focused on a group of men and women who are laughing loudly in the corner. “It’s okay, I know you have work to do.”

“You shouldn’t know I have _work_ at all,” Inuyasha grunts back, irritated.

“I hear things.”

“You mean Miroku and Sango told you.”

“It’s good to have friends.”

“It’s against Sicarius rules, Kagome,” Inuyasha snaps, though his voice is barely louder than a whisper. “They could be fired for leaking information from the Processing Centre. And you know what it means to be _fired_.”

Kagome licks her lips as she considers her next words. Inuyasha is her rival, but snuggled up against his side feels different, somehow. Really, is it any different than the two of them sitting on the roof together at night? Is it different than bickering in an underground garage or the warehouse-of-the-night? “I’m not saying it was them,” she answers slowly, considering, “but as a general rule, you call in favours for what’s really important.”

Inuyasha scoffs. “You saying they did this as a favour?”

“More like a debt repaid.” Kagome dumps her empty glass on a passing tray; she doesn’t reach for another one. “But again, I don’t know anything about any hit. It’s not why I’m here.”

There’s a moment of silence before Inuyasha growls. “For fuck’s sake.”

“I could be hear for that, yeah.”

The growl turns into a groan that sounds defeated and mortified. Still, Inuyasha’s hand clutches tighter once more and Kagome can’t help herself. She spins herself around until she pressed up along the front of him, the velvet of her dress barely a barrier against the material of his suit. In this moment, she feels naked – emotionally more than physically, which makes it quite a feat.

She rests her hands on his chest and looks up at him, playing for innocence. “Inuyasha, don’t ask questions tonight.”

Her rival glares at her but his hand is still on her, steady and strong. Kagome wishes he would grip tighter, leave bruises that she can stare and poke at until the days pass. “That’s a dumbass thing to ask me.”

“Inuyasha.”

His glare doesn’t soften. His grip does. Kagome presses in closer, a demand, and Inuyasha lets out a breath as he puts down his glass of champagne and then wraps that arm around her. They’re hugging, almost, but it doesn’t feel that way. Kagome feels covered and smothered and wishes he would hold her tighter. “Don’t be stupid. You know the rules, Kagome. Whatever you do has consequences.”

She snorts. “This coming from _you_?”

Inuyasha shakes his head, but it’s true. “Just don’t be fucking stupid, okay?”

Kagome won’t make promises she can’t keep. Instead, she rests her forehead against his collarbone and breathes. It’s as close as she can get.

They end up in another room, and then another. There are people everywhere, drinking and dancing and eating tiny bite-sized portions of elegant, expensive food. Inuyasha doesn’t say much to her, and Kagome doesn’t try to fill in the silence. She wants to and normally she would, but this isn’t just a regular night.

This is _the_ night.

It will end bloody and it will end in consequences, no matter what she does.

Hours have passed – or that’s how it feels anyways – until Kagome spots the man she’s been looking for. Inuyasha was hired to eliminate him, specifically chosen, but Kagome can’t do anything about that. She grabs him suddenly, lets her hand drag down his arm until she clutches his hand. It doesn’t take much to drag him onto the dancefloor, a soft jazz beat lulling them into simple sways to the rhythm. It’s nice, she thinks. Something to remember for as long as she lives.

That could be for only a few more hours. Depends on what happens next.

“I’m not stupid,” Inuyasha murmurs in her ear. His grip on her hand is fierce, and the arm on her lower back pulls in tighter, like he has any semblance of control. They don’t though. None of them do. Assassination is just an illusion of such and they’re all victim to it. “Whatever you’re planning on doing, don’t fucking do it.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” she deflects, turning her head to the side.

“I’m not fucking blind,” and wow, he must be mad. Inuyasha swears a lot, but it’s not usually every single sentence out of his mouth. Not around her. “The mark is only a few feet away. Dancing? Really? That’s to distract me?”

Kagome pouts, looking up at him through her lashes. “You weren’t distracted before?”

He opens his mouth, shuts it, and then looks up towards the ceiling like it’ll answer something for him. There must be nothing coming down because Inuyasha growls then and Kagome feels the vibration of it, revels in how close they are. “What is your plan?”

“Dancing and drinking for a good cause,” Kagome chirps back, automatic.

“Tell me your _plan_.”

“Just did. I can’t help if you don’t believe me.”

“Goddamn it, Kagome,” Inuyasha hisses, right in her ear. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

“Help me?” Kagome scoffs then, but it’s broken and without any heat. “We’re rivals, Inuyasha. We don’t have allegiance to anyone but ourselves. There’s no help.”

“That’s so—” Inuyasha growls again and pulls her closer. Is it even possible? Kagome already feels like she’s about to be consumed by him, by his dark gaze and warm body and callused hands. “Fucking _tell me_.”

She can’t. Just like soulmates, an origin story is another form of leverage. It’s another way to share secrets on where you came from, what happened to break you, make you, _destroy_ you. Kagome shakily inhales and plays out the end of the night, how she’ll need to leave Inuyasha and not let him catch her, how she’ll corner the mark and kill him before he can even scream. She won’t call it in, she won’t claim the hit.

But they’ll know she broke the rules. They’ll know Sicarius has a leak and that Kagome is the one who tapped it.

She’ll be fired without a doubt.

This closeness? This hold Inuyasha has over her will only last for another hour, two at most now that she’s found her mark. The music is soothing behind her but every muscle in her body is tense, terrified. There is so much of her life she wants to live, but there are promises that she’s made long ago. You don’t get into this life without a reason, and that time has finally come.

“Kagome,” Inuyasha tries again. Kagome can see something in his eyes and it almost looks like heartbreak. How desperate she must be to see that, when she knows he has a soulmate waiting for him at home.

With hands that are steadier than she knows how, Kagome escapes his grip on her hand and lets it slide up until she’s cupping his jaw. He’s so warm. Everything about him is warm, just like everything about him is deadly and sure. He’s staring at her, waiting and watching. Kagome doesn’t want him to miss out.

“It’s personal,” she murmurs, as softly as she can, then she kisses him.


	2. Chapter 2

Her mother called her five minutes after class was let out.

Kagome frowned down at her cell phone, stopped right in the middle of a flow of students desperate to escape the lecture. She didn’t pay any attention, mostly confused. Her mother never called her during day, not when she knew that Kagome had back-to-back classes as much as possible, trying to get an extra free weekday so that her trips back home could be longer. University was so much better than high school, that way. You made your own choices and you dealt with the consequences.

So far, Kagome had never regretted any of them.

She pressed the number for their home’s landline, her heart beating rapidly for no reason other than the situation was strange. Why would her mother call her now? It was Monday, and a crappy one at that. The worst day of all for Kagome and her classes, and besides, she had just seen her _yesterday_. What happened to make speaking to her so—

“Kagome?”

The first thing Kagome realized was that her mother was crying. She was trying not to, she knew, but Kagome had heard her mother’s voice in every version of every emotion possible. This was utter sadness and despair.

Her heart stuttered to a stop for a moment, before starting once more with a vengeance.

“Mom?” Broken. Confused. Kagome took and breath and heard her mother do the same.

“It’s your grandfather,” she whispered, choked up and barely speaking. “He—He—”

“I’m coming home.” The vow was absolute. Kagome ran with a speed she didn’t know she had, books dropping from her arms without care. Nothing mattered, nothing but this. “Mom, I’m on my way home. It’ll take me an hour, okay? Where’s Sota?”

“With me, he’s okay,” her mother assured her. “Kagome, don’t rush. Please don’t do anything stupid.”

“It’s not stupid, I’m coming home.” Her residence wasn’t that far, still on campus. Something clicked into her brain then, a note that Kagome didn’t have all the facts. “Or should I go to a hospital?”

“No, no.” At this, her mother broke down again, holding back tears as best she could. “Home.”

Too late, then.

Too late.

“And it’s—” Kagome almost couldn’t get the words out. “It’s Grandpa? It’s definitely Grandpa?”

Her mother didn’t answer but it was only because she couldn’t.

Kagome broke every speed limit coming back, and absolutely nothing stopped her. It was the first sign, maybe, of things to come. Of where her head was at, and where her head was going.

But right then, Kagome could only remember one of the last conversations they ever had. _You know I can’t stop_ , her grandfather had told her. _But this is for you_. _For Sota. For your mother._

She had begged him not to. She had been terrified of the ramifications.

It had all come true.

* * *

“Kagome.”

No, no, absolutely no time for talking. Kagome brings her other hand to his face and uses every bit of strength she has to bring him back down, to brush her lips against his. He tries to say something, or maybe he just gasps, but either way Kagome takes the opportunity and licks at his lips, begging for something she’ll never say.

One last chance, right? What harm would it do?

His soulmate would understand, surely. And even if they didn’t, even if they were devasted by Kagome’s actions, she’ll be dead. She won’t know. And that makes her selfish but she _wants to be_. This is her only chance and she’s taking it in both hands. The thought makes her vocal, a broken, bitten off sound that she can’t control until it’s too late.

But it does something. It changes something. Inuyasha breaks like a wall crumbling, plaster and brick and cement falling down bit-by-bit. He gives as good as she takes – _better_ – and Kagome gasps into his mouth and lets him devour her, lets him do whatever he wants because she’s wanted this for as long as she’s laid eyes on him, ever since the moment he opened his mouth and growled at her.

There are polite coughs nearby and Kagome has half a mind to flip them off. Instead, Inuyasha pulls away, stares at her like he can’t really see her, and then grabs her hand. The coldness is the first thing she feels, too startling to even contemplate where he’s leading them both. She lets herself go, watches the back of him like the sight alone will carry her through. They go into one room, another, one that’s so quiet there are only a handful of people and then Inuyasha is dragging her past the velvet rope restricting entrance.

Regular rules never applied to them anyways, not when Sicarius had control on their lives.

The room is dark, the lights completely off. Only the glow from where the guests actually are gives any illumination. Inuyasha uses it to spin her around, to press her up against a wall that doesn’t have a painting _right there_. Probably for the best, but Kagome honestly doesn’t care. She wants her hands on him, she wants to feel him. She wants absolutely _everything_ while she still can have it.

“Now?” he asks, and it’s angry and petulant and Kagome wants to revel in it. “You do this shit _now_?”

He knows, though. Kagome can see it in his eyes, even in the dim lighting. He looks as close to scared as she’s ever seen him. Maybe that’s what drives him to kiss her again, to touch her the way she’s been begging silently to be touched for years. His lips brush hers far too chastely before he presses against her, body hard and consuming, surrounding her. She opens her mouth to plead, but he takes her instead, hands circling around until they’re grabbing her ass and bringing her tight against him. She moans, unable to help herself, her own hands grabbing at whatever leverage she can find.

“Dress,” he pants out, and Kagome groans again but in irritation, trying to heft it up, up, up to her hips. Inuyasha isn’t helping, not in the least. His hands are cupping her breasts and god, not wearing a bra was the best fucking decision she’s ever made. The velvet is like a caress, teasing where his hands are like brands, and Kagome knows she’s making noises that shouldn’t be made because they’ll get caught, or he’ll figure it out, but he’s not stopping, is he?

He’s not, he’s not and Kagome—

“Please,” she bites out, barely coherent, and Inuyasha growls. His hands slip down to grab at her thighs, but there is no way he’s going to lift her and hold her. He does though, he takes her weight, and Kagome wraps her arms and legs around him and prays he won’t let go.

Maybe—

Maybe—

They’re whirling then, and Kagome has only a brief moment of confusion before Inuyasha’s placing her on something, the sound of metal scraping. It’s the stanchion of the velvet rope, getting dragged by his legs as he places her on a table that is part of a goddamn museum collection. Kagome has no idea what it is, how old it is, but it feels sturdy underneath her and that’s really all she cares about. She lets the strap of her clutch fall from her wrist, the better to grab at him for what she has planned.

Her hands undo his belt, quick, quick, quick. Her lips are swollen. Inuyasha presses so hard against her that Kagome knows she can never be kissed by anyone again. By the time she gets the zipper down, Inuyasha has his forehead pressed against hers, is roughly panting like he needs to say something but can’t, _can’t_ , and Kagome knows how he feels.

This is how she’s always felt, always been like around him.

His groan shatters the barely-there quiet of the room when she takes his cock in her hand. It’s heavy and thick, bigger than she expected and _fuck_ , is that a thought. She’s so turned on, all she can think about is _please_ , and _now_ , and _Inuyasha_ without actually saying the words.

Maybe he knows though, or maybe he’s as desperate as she is.

He pulls her to the end of the desk, one hand on her ass while the other dives in under her dress, feeling the soaked wetness that’s undoubtedly there. Kagome keens when his thumb brushes over her clit, even with the thin piece of underwear on top. She’s too sensitive, too in-tune with everything Inuyasha is doing. His touch is searing, setting fire to every part of her, and Kagome has always wanted to be consumed by him.

Inuyasha swears and Kagome would think it’s funny but nothing about this is funny. She pulls her hand back and keeps her eyes on her rival, on his dark gaze as it widens when she opens her mouth to lick at her palm and fingers. It’s sloppy and quick, but Kagome’s conscious that they’re already out of time. They’ve been out of time before she even called his name outside on the steps of the museum.

She strokes him again, the slide so much easier, and Inuyasha kisses her like it’s the only possible option. For seconds in time, she loses both herself and her surroundings. What is it about him that makes her so blind to the rest? The question makes her ache and she’s tired of aching. She’s had a lifetime of it and now, it’s to end.

“Fuck me,” she breathes into the space left between their lips. Inuyasha had been taking a breath but it’s all gone now, disappeared in the vacuum she created with her demand. Kagome shifts forward and tugs him in closer with her thighs. She wants him as close as he can ever be, as close as they can ever be.

“I don’t—”

“Inuyasha,” she says, and her voice isn’t shaking only it is, just a little. Her thumb circles the slit of his cock and he stutters a gasp, coherent thought gone. It’s her time to strike and selfish as it is, Kagome is going to follow through. “I know it’s not the same, not for you, but I need you.”

Inuyasha blinks at her.

She tries again. “Please,” she begs.

Kagome falls back on the desk. It takes a second to realize why, her hands scrambling for purchase on the narrow surface while her legs are being pulled. Her thighs are brushing against the soft material of his suit jacket and he’s still so dressed, barely undone, when Kagome is pretty sure she’s a wreck and a disaster and a trembling mess. It makes the whole thing hotter, and she gasps when she feels Inuyasha push aside her wet panties, feeling her.

God, she’s going to die if this doesn’t happen absolutely _right now_.

She scrambles for her clutch, opening it one-handed and feeling for the foil. She tosses the condom at him once she finds it, and Inuyasha’s eyes widen even further.

“Planning for this?” he asks, though it sounds like he doesn’t believe it. He’s flushed everywhere and Kagome basks in it.

“No,” she answers truthfully, because she hadn’t been. Kagome has always kept a condom on her after she first met him, because soulmate or not, wishful thinking has always been her downfall. This isn’t something she’ll admit to.

Inuyasha snorts, but he rolls the condom on and bites his lip as he does it, like touching himself is the greatest torment. Kagome wants to make things even harder, so she presses in close and pants, lets a hand run down his clothed chest and stomach. “You’re just—” But he cuts off his words. Kagome isn’t sure she wants to know what he would have said anyways.

There’s only one thing to say, and she’s said it before. She’ll repeat it, as many times as needed. “Please,” she whispers, and Inuyasha growls out something she doesn’t understand. He bites at her bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth even as his one hand slides between her legs. Kagome gasps and arches back as he slides a finger inside of her. She practically vibrates with the desire for more, more, _so much more_. “Inuyasha,” she tries again, but either he’s just as lost as she is or just as crazy. He moves aside her underwear, sliding another finger in and it’s great, it’s _amazing_ but it’s not—

“I will knife you in the shoulder if you do not—”

“Impatient, holy _shit_ ,” Inuyasha snaps, and Kagome would spit something back at him but he slides his cock in, big and thick and _oh god_ , she feels like she’s bursting at the seams. She’s so turned on, so keyed up by absolutely everything that’s happening that Kagome’s already too fucking close to coming. Just the feel of him inside of her, filling her up deliciously makes her tremble. God, he doesn’t even have to move and Kagome could probably come just _thinking about this alone_.

“Fuck,” Inuyasha hisses and Kagome can’t even nod because _fuck_.

He grinds into her, like his fat cock isn’t nearly all the way in, like she isn’t already taking every inch of him. She cries out and scrambles to get a hold of him, but Inuyasha is already there, mouth biting into her neck before he pulls out and slams back in.

She sees white.

Kagome is pretty sure she’s not really _there_ for the rest of it. All she can do is hold on, hands reaching and steadying while Inuyasha uses her, his big hands holding her to do with her what he wants. Kagome cries out when he sucks hard at her skin and makes the pleasure-pain take her over the edge. She squeezes her thighs but nothing stops him from pushing back in, a punishing rhythm that makes her pant out nonsense words.

She’s tired of hearing herself. The words pouring from her lips mean nothing anyways, all gasps and pleas and promises she’ll never keep. Kagome grabs his face and tugs until he’s there, until she’s able to kiss those swollen lips and lick inside of him. She wants everything he can give and more. She wants to destroy him. She wants—

“Kagome,” Inuyasha breathes, and god, he looks wrecked. Kagome has seen him bloodied and near death, cut and shot and perfect. Never before has a look of his taken her so completely. There must be something in the way she’s staring, because Inuyasha stills and presses his forehead against hers. It feels like _a moment_. It feels like something Kagome doesn’t have time for, no matter how desperately she wants it. If Inuyasha won’t move, then she will.

Hands back on the desk, she shifts forward until her ass is no longer pressed to the surface, using her legs to cling. Gravity does the rest. Without the desk, she’s only got him, his dick filling her up until there’s absolutely no space in between. It’s skin, the tiny sliver of it that Inuyasha’s revealed from his open pants, and Kagome feels the slick-sweat of it as she uses her arms to pull herself up before falling back down. It’s inelegant and sloppy, arm muscles not nearly as strong as Inuyasha’s, but it gets the point across until he’s pushing her back in close, his own hand knocking at hers once she’s back on the desk to grab at her wrists. It’s only because he’s holding her that she manages to stay up and Kagome feels pinned, powerless, trapped between his arms and his hips with no way to move and nowhere to go.

It’s exactly where she wants to be.

A gasp is torn from her on the next thrust, the angle different now that he’s holding her, and on the next she whines so loudly there’s a very real chance someone will come looking. Inuyasha pants into her neck, thrusting into her again and again and again until Kagome can’t help but pull against his hands. It’s too much. It’s all too much and she’s going to—

Her cries are quieted by his mouth, hot and insistent, and Kagome can’t feel anything other than the wave of pleasure that’s endlessly drowning her. His stomach grinds at her clit, over and over, and it’s so much that Kagome breaks her hands from his grip to grab him, move him, whispering words of desperation as he sinks into her for what feels like the hundredth time, the first time, and all she wants is for him to feel good, to feel a sliver of what she feels every time she’s with him.

“Inuyasha,” she breathes, and whatever else she was going to say is lost in his growl, his face buried in her neck as he grabs her harder than anyone else has ever tried. He’s undone, unmoored and lost, his body shaking as he comes within her. Kagome holds on for dear life. She pretends for long minutes that this doesn’t have to end. It doesn’t, she tells herself, over and over. It doesn’t as long as she keeps her eyes closed, as long as she holds his body close.

But it does end. Of course it does.

“Kagome,” Inuyasha whispers and fuck, it’s husky and beautiful and makes her want to do things she has no right to.

“Inuyasha,” she answers. She’ll always answer. A part of her wants to undo him entirely, wants to get him undressed and see the beautiful body beneath in all its tattooed glory. She’s only ever seen peeks of it over the years, tiny tidbits poking from a shirt collar, a sleeve, a slice in the fabric of his gear. She doubts she’ll see the mirroring cherry blossom on her own skin, but a part of her dreams of it anyways.

Silly things. Silly thoughts.

Kagome takes a deep breath and pushes him away.

It’s uncomfortable but probably worse for him. He has a condom and there’s no garbage in sight. They’ve desecrated what is probably some ancient piece of history for the sake of dying-soon sex. He’s trying to do up his pants, face flushed. When Kagome stands back up, the dress takes only a few tugs to lower down properly. That’s it, really. That’s all there is to her. Her hair is a mess, but well, when isn’t it?

“Whatever you’re doing—” Inuyasha tries but Kagome covers his mouth with her hand, gaze sharp.

“Don’t,” she tells him fiercely. “Don’t you dare.”

He tugs her hand fiercely away. “This is my kill,” he reminds her. “A private order.”

“This is my _history_ ,” she retorts. “If you get in my way, I’ll shoot you.” Not _kill you_ , because even in the heat of everything, Kagome doesn’t think she could ever utter such a falsehood.

“The Sicarius will know,” Inuyasha insists. “If you claim it, they’ll know you broke the rules. You’ll be terminated.”

“Fuck the rules.”

“ _Kagome_.”

And that’s desperation she hears in his voice. Desperation and a heap of crazy, maybe enough to mirror her own. Maybe the sex was just as good for him. “I can’t change this decision,” she admits, grabbing her clutch. “It’s not even an option for me anymore.”

“Was it ever?” Inuyasha whispers and no, no it wasn’t.

Kagome stares at him, lets her hand go against her will to cradle his jaw. This should be funny. A dream come true for her, holding the man she loves like this, right before she dies. Instead, it’s just fucking miserable. Her thumb brushes against his cheek and she takes a deep breath. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Me?” he asks, incredulous. “ _Me_?”

But he doesn’t get another word out because just like that, Kagome has brought her clutch up and around, swinging so harshly at his head that Inuyasha doesn’t have time to react. He staggers, face twisted in the other direction, and Kagome punches him again and again until he falls. He remains there, unmoving and unconscious.

Kagome hates herself a lot, in this moment.

“I’m sorry.” The words are useless but they’re all she has. When she disappears, she doesn’t look back.

The party is still in full swing, vibrant in its colours and noise and movement. She knows there isn’t much time because Inuyasha is bound to wake up at any moment. She needs to get the mark alone but this is automatic, her brain switching into an entirely different mode.

Target: spotted.

Exit: found.

She plays drunk and plasters herself to the side of the man. He’s older, handsome in a way that screams falsities. Everything he has is because of money and it was that greed that killed her father, that later killed her grandfather. He asked too many questions. He pushed all the wrong buttons, went to all the wrong sources. Questions should never be asked to the rich, to the powerful. Disobedience requires death.

Kagome has found the man wanting, in every way. The men ogle her, talk down to her the way dumb people try to do to smarter individuals. It feels like an eternity of time before her target thinks enough is enough, until her hands on the back of his neck drive him to distraction. She lets him drag her across the room, a limpet that’s too drunk to hold her own. He clings to her waist and murmurs things that make her blood boil with a ferocity that threatens to overwhelm her theatrics. Giggling is the only option, playing the part she’s never been good at. There’s nothing calm about the situation, not when he leads them past the washrooms he was supposedly taking her to. Not when he asks if she wants to go somewhere else, somewhere more private.

Agreeing is simple. For the first time, a calm descends upon her mind. She keeps the twisted smile on her face, lets him lead her around until they’re behind yet another set of velvet ropes. It feels entirely different than before with Inuyasha, as it should. This is all cold, dead obligation. This is what reapers call a bounty.

The target presses her up against the wall and Kagome laughs. It’s hysterical, manic, as she lets him kiss her throat as she imagines what’s going to come next. Her hands dance from his neck to his tie and down, feeling the plane of soft and forgiving flesh. Kagome blinks up at him owlishly, lets the velvet of her dress bunch as she slides down the wall to her knees. The man is all shocked desire, heavy lust leaking from his pores.

She licks her lips and savours the moment: the innocence, the life that flutters with every expression on his face.

Something moves in the shadows, in the corner of her eye. Kagome laughs again, hand sliding up her own dress in a movement that is less sexy and more automatic efficiency. Then the knife is in her right hand, his tie in her left, and Kagome drags him down with enough force to make him crumble before she slams the glass blade into his throat.

Hot blood gushes, sprays across the wall and all over her. It’s in her hair, dripping down her face and into her eyes. Kagome can’t look away though, can’t remove herself from the man who destroyed her family piece by piece, who made her who she is. Because he wanted money, because he wanted the silence of the poor and powerless, her father had to die. Her grandfather had to follow because he wouldn’t leave enough alone, wouldn’t let sleeping dogs lie. A grief that lasted and persisted, a scab that refused to heal.

And now this: Kagome watching the life drain out of him, blood dripping like a running river over her hand, her arms, staining her emerald dress.

When he collapses, she pushes him off and to the side, unable to stop looking.

There’s a click and Kagome has only a moment to realize that she’s already been betrayed. Inuyasha holds his phone in his hands, his eyes watching the screen.

“How fucking _dare_ you,” she spits, because this was her kill and her kill alone. It’s too late though; his photo has been sent off, the private hit done and delivered. No one would know it was her. No one would believe her even if she screamed it from the rooftops.

“Kagome,” Inuyasha growls, and his eyes are dark and blazing, endless pools of black. She can see every tense line of muscle under the tux, every bit of him flexing with a desire to attack. She wants it. She wants him to hit her, wants this even, wants a _fight_. Even though it’s what she craves, when he does strike, she’s not prepared. In moments, Inuyasha has her pinned to the ground, her wrist being slammed over and over into the floor. The glass knife is forced from her grip, sliding across the wood. Inuyasha grabs her by the throat and hauls her up like a rag doll, like she’s nothing.

He lets her go with a shove. There’s blood all over him and it’s because he touched her, because she stained him anew.

And this is it: the tipping point. The scale has gone from balanced, to her, and now to him. Because he holds all the power, knowing what he knows. Knowing how she feels, undoubtedly. Knowing that one word could have her terminated. Knowing the secret to her past, her family, the only loved ones she has left.

This is leverage, and death may have been kinder after all.

“Run,” he orders, raw and vicious.

Kagome does.

* * *

Self-preservation died the same day her grandfather was put into the ground. There wasn’t much more to say. She took his notes and his files, poured over them with an obsession that made her mother cry. She left school – what good was it anyways? – and she disappeared for a while.

Years.

And then she came back, guns in hand and revenge in her heart. She would finish what they started. She would destroy the man who destroyed her family.

If she died like her father, like her grandfather, then, well—

An end was an end was an end.

* * *

Kagome doesn’t hide but she operates differently now. It had taken a few weeks to let her new reality settle under her skin. Any day, Inuyasha could have outed her which would have meant a call from the Sicarius Hotel Manager and a notification of her termination. Nothing came, and with each passing day Kagome had to swallow her pride and realize that it probably wasn’t. Inuyasha wasn’t going to give the information up, not yet anyways.

_He never will_ , comes a voice that’s far too naïve. Kagome squashes it before it can say another word.

When she starts picking up hits again, she’s more careful. Kagome picks ones that she doesn’t normally; she’ll venture a bit further out of the city, leave the popular ones for Inuyasha and Inuyasha alone. She doesn’t follow. She doesn’t watch. Inuyasha doesn’t try to get a hold of her and that’s fine.

It’s fine.

Really.

All of this is to say that it’s been weeks since the last time she saw him. Her breath doesn’t catch at his appearance so much as stop completely, heart rabbiting faster at the realization that her lungs may never expand again. It’s not his handsomeness that gets her, because Kagome’s had years to get used to _that_. It’s not even the shock of seeing him.

It’s the skin, first and foremost.

There’s a lot of it, more than she’s ever seen. Normally there are tiny glimpses, pencil-holes in paper screens. This is almost an entire expanse of skin, tattooed in blacks and browns, reds and greens and pinks. There’s blood, too, but even Kagome can tell from her vantage point on top of a shipping container that the knife wounds are minor, bleeders more than anything life-threatening.

Inuyasha is fighting three different men at once. None of them are particularly good, especially the target Kagome was planning on killing. They’re all attacking him at the same time though, makeshift weapons in hand. He’s fighting them off quite well but each block is an arm or a leg that can’t stop another attack. Slowly, he starts to lose more than he gains.

Where the hell is his weapon?

“No,” Kagome tells herself valiantly. “You’re not going to do this.”

She’s not. She’s not going to help him and she’s not going to talk to him. Inuyasha’s death would be better, wouldn’t it? No more leverage. Freedom once more.

Kagome thinks about it and swears, jumping down. Inuyasha’s back is to her, facing the other, two larger opponents. That’s fine. That’s better, actually, because Kagome can approach from behind, grab the shoulder of the target and whirl him around just in time to put a bullet in his brain. The silencer doesn’t do much, even in the vast space, and all three men pause for a moment at the intrusion.

Inuyasha swears, chops one of the men in the throat before breaking his leg. He takes the other down within the next four seconds, before he has time to react.

Kagome lowers her gun.

“Mother _fucker_ ,” Inuyasha hisses, glaring first at her and then at the dead body by her feet. “That was my goddamn kill. _Again_.”

That’s rich, coming from him. Kagome stares him dead in the eyes before shooting two more bullets into the chest of the target.

Inuyasha narrows his gaze but he seems to get the message anyways. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“What are _you_ doing here?” Kagome counters with. She wants to cross her arms defensively but doesn’t. It takes nearly all of her willpower. “You don’t normally come out this far.”

“Yeah, well.” Inuyasha scowls at her before glaring at the ground. “It was money.”

“Because you’re so hard-up for cash.”

He sneers at her. “And how would you know?”

Kagome bites her lip and doesn’t say a word. They stand there, two rivals with leverage between them and not much else to discuss.

Inuyasha is the first to break. “You haven’t—” He scowls harder and tugs at his very ripped, barely-there shirt. It draws attention to his tattoos. Or rather, his _tattoo_. It’s a massive piece and she can really only see the bottom of it. It’s some kind of tree though, she thinks. The bark of the trunk is stunningly well done, detailed in a way that looks hyper-realistic. She sees what she thinks are leaves in fall colours, reds and greens and pinks, but she can’t be certain because Inuyasha snaps his fingers and tugs at his shirt again. “You haven’t been around.”

“I’ve been busy,” Kagome answers shortly. It’s the truth, even if it’s not what he wants to hear.

“You never come out here for jobs either.”

“I’ve been expanding.”

“You mean avoiding me.”

It’s Kagome’s turn to glare. “No.”

He raises his eyebrows, disbelief clear in his expression. It’s only then that Kagome sees one of the two men he knocked unconscious start to get up, disoriented and confused. She shoots the thug in the head before he even manages to sit up.

Inuyasha looks down at the guy. “Huh.” There’s something in his expression, something that she’s desperate to read. He tugs at his shirt again before turning those dark eyes on her. “Let’s get a drink.”

What a stupid, terrible idea. “The Sicarius?” Kagome suggests, because last time her suggestion for The Cave didn’t go over so well.

Inuyasha doesn’t smirk so much as grimace, but he nods his head anyways. “Will you actually show up?”

“Will you get mad if I take the hit?” Kagome waves her gun at the very dead man by her feet still. Oh, that’s blood seeping around her boots. Shit.

He sighs but shakes his head. “No, you fucking got him. Take it.”

Kagome snaps the picture, sends it to Processing, and then strangely they head out together, side by side. The Sicarius is a fair drive away. Kagome ignores the feeling of wrongness on her motorcycle all alone, even as she knows Inuyasha is in his own car behind her. She doesn’t let her mind wander, doesn’t dare think about what this means. There are too many possibilities in this line of work, and too many possibilities between them to think of an easy answer.

The bar of the Sicarius is famous for two things: its plush red carpet and the bartenders. There are only two of them but they are twins, identical in every single way. One manages the bar itself while the other serves the tables. In the years that Kagome has been a patron, she’s never known if the two switch off, or if it’s the same again and again and again. Either way, the bartender flashes a smile at her when she sits down at a nearby table, Inuyasha joining her. He’s still wearing that torn, damaged shirt, allowing her to get a good look at his tattoo. It means that his soul mark is likely still buried under what scrap of cloth he has left.

Kagome desperately doesn’t think about the fact that she can’t see if his mark matches her own. That way lies madness.

“A Haze for her,” Inuyasha orders when the bartender arrives, placing down a jewel shard. “Scotch for me, on the rocks.”

“Very good,” the man replies before disappearing.

Kagome raises a brow at him. “Did you just try to think of the most girly drink out there?”

“Third most,” Inuyasha replies, shrugging. When she glares, he shrugs unrepentantly. “I know you don’t like the taste of alcohol so you bury it in other flavours.”

Kagome hadn’t known that he knew that. She changes the subject instead. “Were you looking for me?”

“No.”

“Are you lying?”

Inuyasha smirks. “Why would I do that?”

“Admitting it may be embarrassing.”

“And why would it be?” Inuyasha leans forward on the table and there’s a line between his eyebrows now, anger settling into his skin. “What else do I have to lose at this point?”

Kagome scoffs. “Now you sound like me.”

“No,” he tells her firmly, unhappily. “I don’t.”

It’s unnecessarily cruel and she doesn’t know why. Kagome bites back the first retort and then the second. She wants to demand what the fuck he means but the bartender comes back, providing their drinks without flourish. Kagome can smell his scotch, a drink she’s never been able to enjoy, so she pulls her own fruity martini closer. “Why are you so angry?”

Inuyasha snorts. It sounds ugly even though he still looks so horrendously attractive. Kagome wants to punch him so badly sometimes. “Why would you think I’m angry? We’re having a drink, aren’t we?”

“You didn’t have to offer.”

“You didn’t have to accept.”

“It felt like I should have.”

“Why, because we fucked?” Inuyasha, at least, has the propriety to look away then. Maybe that’s shame on his face, but Kagome can’t really tell. There’s something just so off about him and it rankles her, makes her want to reach out and touch all over again. It’s the memory of it, though, that holds her back. The memory that she did reach out, that she did touch him, and everything about it had been world-altering.

Kagome swallows past the threat of something dangerously close to tears. “Because we were friends, I think, before.”

Silence falls between them. This was a terrible idea after all.

“Do you feel any better?”

The question is so sudden, so out-of-left-field, that Kagome has to blink and re-process the question once more inside her head. Inuyasha isn’t looking at her, gaze firmly on the ice melting within his scotch. There’s a finger smudge of blood just under his jaw that Kagome wants to wipe away. She answers his question instead. “Honestly,” she starts, because there’s no other way to have this conversation that they’re apparently having, “I don’t think I feel much at all.”

Inuyasha makes a face.

Kagome sighs. “I don’t regret that night.”

That, at least, gets a reaction. He stares at her once more. “Which part?”

What is it with Inuyasha and asking all of the things Kagome wishes he wouldn’t? “Any of it,” she replies truthfully, defeated. _You know that_ , she wants to say. She buries the words in her drink, instead.

Inuyasha keeps looking at her. He doesn’t stop. He stares and stares, even as he downs his scotch in what is probably an inadvisable massive swallow. The clink of the glass on the wood is overly loud. Kagome flinches and that is the only warning sign she gets.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Inuyasha declares, leaning in close. His breath smells of wretched scotch and Kagome wants to lick it out of him. It’s not fair. Not a single part of this is fair.

_What would your soulmate think,_ she wants to demand. _Why are you doing this to me_ , she wants to scream. Because Inuyasha has to know. There’s no way that he doesn’t, not with the way she pulled him in to kiss him, not with the way she begged him to fuck her. Inuyasha knows that she has feelings for him and yet—

And yet—

“As long as you’re paying,” she tells him lightly. Her nail taps at the glass of her drink. “Why don’t you deal with that and I finish this?”

Inuyasha keeps staring. Pretty soon, Kagome is going to either punch him or drag him over the table to fuck him senseless in the middle of the Sicarius. That would do great for the rumours, she’s sure.

The minute he gets up and leaves, she feels like she can breathe again. The first inhale is like a choking sob, so she immediately grabs her martini to gulp at least half of it. Coughing, she wipes her mouth on the back of her hand and then downs some more. She’s sure that if she turns around, Inuyasha will be trading some jewel shards for a room, the woman at reception smiling as cordially as she always does.

Kagome chances a look around the lobby bar. There are only a handful of people there, some assassins she’s familiar with and some she isn’t, who are likely travelling through or finishing up a contract. None of them are looking at her but that doesn’t mean they’re not watching. When Kagome switches her gaze to the bartender, his eyes revert downwards, caught.

That’s how it is, then. A forgone conclusion.

Getting up, Kagome downs the remaining fruity drink and then heads over towards the bank of elevators on the other side of the hotel. She feels stares at her back but they aren’t worth turning around for.

Inuyasha is already waiting.

“Some rivals we are,” Kagome murmurs, refusing to look his way.

He snorts again, and it’s just as offensive as the first time he did it. “Like we were ever fucking rivals.”

Kagome hums. “Interesting word choice.” She hears him make an abortive groan but leaves him, instead, when the elevator doors open.

They don’t touch. Not on the first floor and not when they reach the nineteenth. There’s no one around but they don’t dawdle, Inuyasha producing the card against the reader, the door unlocking and opening automatically. The lights are already on, blaring and loud compared to the dimness of the hallway. Kagome steps in, switches them all off and then lets herself be pressed into the wall when Inuyasha pushes her aggressively into it.

His lips are more of an attack than a kiss. They’re biting, tugging, fighting her for something Kagome freely gives. It’s Inuyasha. Of course she’ll give it. Her hands run along his body, eyes fluttering at the feel of his defined muscles, at the feel of coarse hair leading down to his pants. It’s dark enough that she can only make out a vague outline of his tattoos but she doesn’t dare touch his shirt.

“What can I take off?” she pants, in the space between one biting kiss and the next.

Inuyasha growls and pushes into her harder. His hands cling to her ribs through her shirt, sliding down over waist and hips. Thumbs dig into the bone there, making her squirm. “Pants,” he breathes out.

Kagome undoes his pants. She takes off her own in the process, even going so far as to strip off her shirt. The sports bra underneath has extra fabric to cover her soul mark, enough material to make her own full-piece tattoo a bit more difficult to decipher. Inuyasha’s not even trying though, his teeth biting into her neck and sucking so hard that she’ll be mottled with bruises, with a claim that makes her knees weak and resolve fade away.

One push. Another. Kagome shoves with all that she has until Inuyasha backs off, stumbling slightly. She advances and pushes again, harder, until his legs hit the bed. He crawls backwards automatically but she doesn’t stop chasing, her hands grabbing at the waistband of his boxer-briefs and tugging them down. Inuyasha is staring at her _still_ , but this isn’t some expressionless, hard-to-decipher look. It’s _want_ , pure and simple. It’s greed and desire, blown pupils and flushed cheeks and twitching hands and all. Kagome takes him in and then _takes him in_ , curling down over him before he can say anything to suck at the head of his cock.

It surprises a groan out of him and Kagome feels deliciously triumphant until he gets a hand in her hair, tugging. She fights against him because of course she does. Kagome takes him in deeper, lets her lips sink further and further over his length as far as she can go, until the thick head of him is pressed tight against her throat.

“Fuck Kagome.” Inuyasha sounds like he’s dying. Kagome makes sure to suck extra hard, if only for the vicious satisfaction of his hand pulling hard, legs coming up to enclose her in like he can’t decide if he wants her off or on. It’s enough to spur her into action, a hand pumping at the base of him while she licks and sucks, dipping in time with her loose fist. She lets her spit coat the way, the slide far too easy, but it makes Inuyasha’s breath hitch over and over. It’s a heady feeling, this kind of power. When they were in the museum, Inuyasha had been the only one in control. She’d been too far gone, lost in her feelings on what was to come and what she would lose.

But this is her. This is a reclamation that Kagome demands. She doesn’t let up, fighting against his hands and holding down his hips with her only free arm. His cock is heavy in her mouth, the taste of him leaking onto her tongue. She can feel the musk of it in the back of her throat already, imprinting with each nudge of his tip when she swallows him down.

His hair pulling gets desperate, meaner. There are no hitches of breath but rather unrelenting, unstoppable moans. Inuyasha doesn’t whisper her name again like a prayer and it’s driving her into madness. His hand leaves momentarily before raking back in, fingers clawing at her scalp with a tug. Kagome’s helpless but to go with the movement, her eyes landing on the clenched jut of his jaw. He’s staring at the ceiling and Kagome goes to take him back into her mouth when he groans again and sits up, hands sliding from her hair to her neck and taking her with a kiss.

She falls into it, or more specifically, she falls into _him_. Kagome feels the hard press of his erection but she ignores it in favour of licking inside his mouth, forcing the taste of him to override the taste of scotch. Inuyasha groans and wraps his arms around her, so tightly that her nerves tingle with it, eyes rolling as she shamelessly grinds down against him. It feels so fucking good. Every bit of him feels like a dream. They’ve had sex before but this feels different, even though it shouldn’t.

Kagome isn’t sure if she wants it to feel different or not.

“I’m going to ride you,” she whispers, licking at his lips sloppily before rolling off of him. Inuyasha lays there stunned while Kagome takes off her underwear. There’s nothing graceful or sexy about it, but she doesn’t care. Inuyasha has seen her bloody. Inuyasha has seen her snap necks and shoot brains out of a person’s skull. Underwear removal isn’t going to negatively stain whatever image he has of her, or at least that’s what she tells herself as she rolls towards the nightstand to fish out a string of condoms. The Sicarius Hotel is full-service indeed, though Kagome checks the expiry before ripping one off and tearing it open.

“Christ, Kagome,” Inuyasha says, hands trying to take it away from her.

Kagome hits him playfully the first time and then harder the second, glaring. “Let me.”

He lets her. Inuyasha gasps and rolls his hips as she slides the condom down his thick length, making sure to use both hands for the fun of it. She watches the way he squirms, the way the stares at her with those big dark eyes that make her want to do _so many things_.

There’s no ceremony to this. Maybe there would have been, if they were different people in a different situation. Soulmates, or maybe just two ordinary people who met at a coffee shop. The thought of a meet-cute is almost daunting because the thought of being anywhere without her gun is unthinkable, and there’s nothing cute about guns.

With that thought, Kagome crawls back over him until their foreheads are pressed together. It’s oddly gentle, even though she doesn’t want to be. Inuyasha is still staring at her but he isn’t saying anything. It should be freaking her out but Kagome has never been calm about Inuyasha anyways. What’s one more situation, one more strange look, one more questioning moment between them?

When she kisses him, it’s to consume every bit of him that she loves. She frames his face with her hands and takes and _takes_ , until her moans are needy and whining. With a shift of her legs she slides down, and then down some more until she can feel the heat of his cock against her pussy. Then she takes him, and takes him, and _takes him_ until Inuyasha is grabbing at her again, hands bruising her flesh with the force of it. She hopes that there will be marks to press into tomorrow.

There’s nothing elegant about the way she fucks herself on him. It’s desperation, different than the museum but far worse. She lets herself be manhandled into sitting up, legs burning as she rides his cock. The angle is perfect, is everything, the spot inside of her sending sparks of pleasure up her spine. His thumb rubs incessantly on her clit, far too dry, but it doesn’t matter for long as she feels the wetness of her slick saturating everything. She’s gasping, shaking, and Inuyasha grabs at her only to roll them both over, until he can fuck into her harshly enough that she hits the headboard with every thrust. The slap of skin is only overridden by their keening, their moans, and Inuyasha toys with her breast and sucks at the skin above her bra until his rhythm begins to falter, until he’s thrusting in stutter-stops as he’s buried deep inside.

Inuyasha groans the exact same way as he did last time when he came. Kagome can’t believe that’s even a thought she can have while he collapses down on top of her.

The room is strangely quiet after that.

Unlike at the museum, there’s nothing urgent that needs to be done. Inuyasha has buried his face in her neck, breathing in deeply, and Kagome is helpless to wrap her arms around him and tug him close. She stares at the ceiling, counting down the seconds until Inuyasha gingerly raises himself and pulls out of her.

Neither of them talk while he disappears into bathroom, the sound of a garbage can opening and then the splash of running water filtering into the room. He comes back with a warm cloth and hands it to her, and Kagome doesn’t let herself feel embarrassed as she wipes at her thighs and groin, removing the worst of what’s there. She tosses the cloth to the ground after and rolls, rolls into the middle of the mattress and into Inuyasha’s firm body.

He’s still wearing that stupid, mostly destroyed shirt. Kagome sighs and lets her fingers trail over his obliques. “Will you stay?” she asks, immediately hating herself for it.

“It’s my room,” Inuyasha tells her. It’s not a direct answer and Kagome forces herself to swallow and nod.

Despite everything, she falls asleep. The warmth of him is intoxicating and his arms wrapped around her make her feel—

Well, make her feel all kinds of things.

When she wakes up the next morning, the bed is empty and cold.

Kagome isn’t surprised. It still hurts like a bullet wound, though.

* * *

The first time she saw Inuyasha, Kagome nearly fell off of a roof. It wasn’t sexy. She shouldn’t have even been on the roof. The target had been sticking to the shadows, and back then Kagome hadn’t been the best, hadn’t been the assassin she was now. The target kept sliding in and out of her sight, somehow alluding her even in the middle of an abandoned street, and so the best option had been to go up. At least, she thought it was.

She climbed up, silent, needing to leap between buildings in order to catch back up to the target. He was older, slower, gait laborious. He’d been running for a while, Kagome thought. Soon, he wouldn’t run any more.

It was easier from above to keep him monitored, but the shot to kill would be harder. So much harder. Pressing her lips together, Kagome considered her options. She could try her luck on a fire escape, going down as quickly as possible and hoping to not lose or alert him. Or she could try to shoot from above, maybe find a building that was lower for a better angle.

She tapped her gun absentmindedly against her thigh, options running through her head as the target leaned against a nearby wall, pulling out his phone. An opportunity? Maybe. Kagome edged closer to the lip of the building.

“If you think you’re going to make that shot, you’re an idiot.”

The growl had come out of nowhere, so startling that Kagome actually jumped. The problem was that she was already so close to the edge that her foot skidded against the shingles, an overly loud scraping sound.

The target swore and ran.

Kagome cursed and whirled around to glare at the asshole who had ruined everything. “Who the hell do you think—”

Oh, he was pretty.

This was bad. “Who do you think you are?” Kagome tried again, finally getting the question out, even with the stuttered beginning.

The man raised his gun and Kagome instantly raised hers, well aware that she was trapped. Stuck. Unable to move other than the leap to her death. This was a massive error, a huge mistake. She’d only been taking hits for a couple months, but this was by far the dumbest thing she had ever done. She was an amateur but she wasn’t _stupid_.

This? This was stupid.

“The target is mine,” he growled out, low and dangerous.

Kagome shivered. She was then, abjectly, horrified at herself. “What do you mean he’s _yours_?”

“This is my area,” he told her simply, slowly, like any faster would confuse her. It was worse than insulting. “My area means my kill. Go away.”

“This city is huge,” Kagome argued. “There’s room for both of us.”

“No.”

“There is,” she insisted.

The man rolled his eyes. “You’re really arguing when you’re one backwards step away from plummeting to your death?”

“Well that and the gun you have pointed at me.”

The man raised his eyebrows, briefly surprised before he scowled again. “That just shows you’re really stupid.”

“Shows what you know,” Kagome bluffed, holding firm. It was all false confidence, but the only reason she was here was because of false confidence. Years of faking it, bleeding out the old her and becoming something different. Something harder and stronger. Something fierce.

Well, a persona, at least. Kagome was reminded every night of the little girl she still wanted to be, the naïve thing that went to school and thought the biggest tragedy of her life was a missing father.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

The man’s scowl twisted in incredulous horror. “Why the fuck would I tell you that?”

“Why else are you still pointing a gun at me, if not to make conversation?”

“Thought it was pretty fucking clear that I’m telling you the target is mine.”

“He’s not.”

“He _is_.”

“You’re so unreasonable,” Kagome snapped. Her arms were burning from holding the gun raised for so long. Sweat was actually sliding down her temples, a taunting tickle she wanted to scratch away. “The hit is for anyone to respond to.”

“Still my city.”

Kagome groaned, but it sounded far closer to a scream. “It’s not your fucking city!”

“Says the little girl that’s about to fall off a building.”

She made a face at him. “There’s a fire escape behind me, you moron. I’ll be fine.” It was yet another bluff. A big bad one. It did, however, make the man narrow his eyes. “Look, the target is already long gone. I’m not interested in chasing him anymore so you can go to town, or whatever.” She took a breath and then slowly – achingly slow, her arms were _screaming_ at her – she lowered her gun.

The man stared at her like she was a fool.

“We done here?” Kagome asked.

There was a long moment of silence. She didn’t dare move. All she did was wait, her eyes focused on every shift of his body. It felt like eons later, but he lowered his gun. That dark gaze of his never left her. “You must be new.”

“Not from around here, actually.” Kagome shrugged. “Or, I’ve just come back, is probably more accurate.”

“You tell everyone your life story?”

“Only guys who point guns at me on a Monday night.”

That actually made the guy blink, once and incredibly slowly, like he was trying to figure out if he was awake or not. It was kind of endearing, actually, which Kagome shouldn’t have been thinking about a man who may potentially still kill her. There was no fire escape, after all. “Who are you?” he asked. It must have been reflex though, because the second it was out, he grimaced so hard it looked painful.

Kagome held back a smile. It was small, but she couldn’t remember the last time she _had_ smiled. “My name’s Kagome. Nice to meet you.”

“Is that— That’s your real name, isn’t it?” The man scoffed, and then looked so horrified by her he took a step back. “You’re crazy.”

She waved her gun around a little, making sure to point it away from both of them. No need for him to be trigger happy. “Aren’t we all?”

Another blink, and then there was a huff that sounded suspiciously like _keh_. “Whatever. Just don’t come for another one of my kills.”

Kagome didn’t say anything but the man didn’t seem interested in an answer anyways. He took a couple steps back, and then edged towards the part of the building that _definitely_ had a fire escape. Just before he disappeared completely, swallowed into the inky blackness of the night, she heard a sigh.

“And it’s Inuyasha.”

Standing on the edge of the roof, Kagome took long, deep breaths until she felt calm once more. She hadn’t even realized how much adrenaline was racing through her system, not until he was gone and the threat had disappeared.

The smile on her face was still there. In fact, it was bigger.

When Kagome laughed, it was a tiny little blossom that bloomed, big and wide and stunning. Her laughter choked her until there were tears in her eyes.

Maybe she was a little bit crazy after all.

* * *

She’s going to die and there’s nothing she can do to stop it.

She’s going to die and it’s going to be painful, excruciatingly so. The only silver lining is that they’re choosing to throw her into a lake rather than sticking her paralyzed into a barrel and setting her on fire. Drowning has to be better than burning, doesn’t it?

The men are no longer talking to her. They’ve been done with that for a while now.

The night had started so simply, too. An easy kill on the outskirts of the city, an area that she normally doesn’t visit. This time, she isn’t so full of herself to deny that she’s not avoiding Inuyasha. She is. Fully, completely. They had had sex and he had left her without a word. Payback, probably. Kagome knows she deserves it, but she also knows that Inuyasha still has leverage over her. She had thought, rather stupidly, that that had been payback enough.

The point is that the territory, while still her own, isn’t as familiar. She goes to clock her target but is actually taken into a trap. Turns out this particular target is part of a larger gang, a gang that Kagome’s been slowly dwindling over time because of the number of people that hate them. Killing her isn’t going to stop the hits from coming, but these men don’t exactly look all that smart.

When Kagome had woken up the first time, bound and gagged to a rusty pole on the hard, concrete ground, they had wasted no time in beating the shit out of her. At one point, when the gag had fallen out of her mouth, she had tried to reason with them, had tried to tell them.

It hadn’t mattered.

This gang is, apparently, run by one of the biggest mob bosses of the city, one of the few people that even the Sicarius is hesitant to touch. Somehow this hadn’t been flagged in the hit request and that in itself is strange. It screams a setup, but a setup for who, exactly, Kagome isn’t sure. Not her, surely. She’s too small-time. Maybe against the entirety of Sicarius? Will she be a message?

Now, she’s at the docks a little way across the city. This area she’s far more familiar with, but it’s not going to help her now. She’s tied so tightly that she lost feeling in her hands and feet a long time ago. Even if she managed to get free, Kagome highly doubts she’d be able to _move_.

There’s a weight at the edge of the dock, and Kagome knows it’s going to be tied around her legs. She’s going to swim with the fishes, as they say. She’s not going to get a chance to say goodbye to her mother or brother. That’s her biggest regret, surely.

Inuyasha, too, is a regret, but Kagome forces away the reason why.

Before she can react, she’s hit fiercely on the back of the head. The blow is sharp and excruciating, making her fall to the dirty concrete below. Kagome knows she has to be bleeding, but she’s bleeding everywhere. How much more blood does she have to give? It takes far too many seconds until she can open her eyes, and then another long, long time until she can see properly. It’s all black spots and wavy lines of light. It’s dizzying and the first time Kagome makes out the shape of a person, she twists her head and pukes, stomach heaving.

There’s the sound of chains. Kagome can’t even breathe, is pretty sure she’s going to puke again. She wants to go to sleep. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise. Maybe she can just pass out, not wake up, and just die. Could it be that easy?

A wave of nausea slams into her and Kagome throws up again, head so heavy that she falls into the sick. The realization does nothing to make her move, and it’s enough of a distraction that she doesn’t notice the screams at first. But there it is: screaming. Painful. Blood-curdling, like a nightmare come to life.

Kagome closes her eyes. _Die now_ , she thinks to herself. It’s fine. She’s killed the man who ordered the hit on her father, on her grandfather. There’s more evil in the world, but someone else can pick up that mantle. It’s fine, she promises to herself. It’s fine.

As the heaviness settles over her, a cloak against a raging storm, she hears a familiar voice screaming.

Screaming.

Screaming her name.


	3. Chapter 3

The second time she saw Inuyasha was on the opposite side of a warehouse, a body dropping dead between them.

Instantly, he was growling. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he snapped.

Kagome pointed at the dead woman between them. “I think that’s obvious.”

“Don’t be smart with me,” Inuyasha growled. “It’s not fucking cute.”

There was blood on her face and a cut across the line of her shoulder blades. There wasn’t one second that she ever considered herself to be _cute_. She pulled out her cell phone, getting ready to take the photo before suddenly he was right in front of her. His dark brown eyes were boring into her, fiery and fierce, and Kagome had to remind herself to hold her ground. She was not weak. She was not powerless.

In fact, she had all the power.

“Back off,” she warned, not moving a muscle. “I’ll take the photo and I’ll go.”

“I told you that this was _my_ city.”

“Well as far as I’m concerned it’s _ours_.” Kagome gestured with her head towards the target on the ground, lying now in a pool of her own blood. “I killed her before you even showed up. Clearly there’s enough room for the both of us.”

“Fuck you.”

Kagome opened her mouth and then closed it. Her immediate response was something just as sharp, just as witty, but Inuyasha was standing so close and that just added an… _image_.

Inuyasha frowned at her. “Are you just going to stare at me or what?”

“No.” The word felt forced but she had to try to move on, if nothing else but for her sanity. “I’m just going to take my photo and go.”

“This is _my city_ ,” Inuyasha gritted out once more.

Kagome groaned and tried to step around him. He blocked her, studiously not touching, and with an irritated huff she raised her gun and poked him aggressively in the chest with it. “ _Back off_.”

Inuyasha glared at her but he didn’t seem too concerned about the fact that she had a gun pressed against him. He wasn’t even still; his body shifted side to side, as if ready to pounce. “I could fucking kill you for this.”

Her irritation grew, actual anger causing a fire within her veins. “Then why don’t you?” she snapped. “Just kill me and poof! No more competition on your territory or whatever. This isn’t the Sicarius. There’s nothing sacred about these grounds to the Code.”

But she knew. She knew that most assassins had their own code, outside of the laws of the Sicarius. Some people killed because of the money. Some people killed for the fun of it, for the adrenaline rush and the chance to play God. Others did it for the same reason she did: for revenge. Others… Well, others did it because they wanted to make the world better.

Kagome didn’t really think there were a lot of people like that.

A growl brought her back to the present and Inuyasha stepped back, actually daring to turn his back completely as he disappeared once more. “Take the fucking photo but this is _it_. Do you hear me? Last fucking chance.” He whirled around once more to point a finger at her, dark gaze narrowed. “If I see you again, I won’t hesitate.”

“Hesitate to what?” Kagome yelled. She was confused and thrilled and torn, none of which made any sense.

Inuyasha growled again, louder, and then slammed the door to the warehouse with a bang.

She wasn’t smiling, but it was a close thing.

* * *

The Sicarius makes an announcement:

All hits made against Naraku Morikawa or any of his people would officially be cancelled, pending an investigation.

Kagome learns this two days later, properly conscious for the first time and desperately thirsty.

“Drink,” Inuyasha tells her, holding up a cup with a straw to her lips. Kagome doesn’t say anything about the absurdity of the situation and Inuyasha doesn’t disappear. It’s a truce, and an uneasy one at that.

“Where am I?” she asks, when words make sense again.

“The Sicarius.”

“How did you find me?”

“Luck.”

She doubts it. Kagome doesn’t voice this out loud. “What happened?”

“They’re dead.” Inuyasha glares at her so hard, Kagome’s pretty sure a headache starts to form behind her eyes because of it. She winces, closing her eyes and trying to breathe. “Tell me everything.”

So he does. It’s clinical detail, but she appreciates it nonetheless. Especially when he goes over the damage to her body, the way she threw up so much there was nothing left to empty. He had stayed with her the entire time, had worked with the big, beady-eyed doctor to make sure she woke up and didn’t die of internal brain bleeding while asleep. Kagome wants to ask another question, wants to ask _why_.

She doesn’t.

Kagome is surprised, more than anything, when Inuyasha stays. He stays and he doesn’t leave. He shares the bed with her but sticks to the far side. He helps her get to the bathroom, and one time when Kagome stares longingly at the shower, he gently removes her clothes and assists her inside. She has bruised ribs but somehow nothing is miraculously broken.

Kagome doesn’t look in the mirror when she gets out. She hasn’t looked once.

When she’s healed enough that going home is the only thing on her mind, Inuyasha doesn’t argue. He simply grabs a bag she hadn’t noticed in the far corner of the room and nods at her. His hand is warm on her lower back as he follows her out of the room, as he stands with her in the elevator, as they leave the Sicarius through the lobby. Kagome doesn’t say a word but she wants to ask why.

A part of her thinks she knows.

A part of her wonders because they’re not soulmates. And he has one, doesn’t he? Kagome’s brain is so scattered, she’s not even sure anymore.

There’s a taxi outside and Inuyasha lowers her into it. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he tells her firmly.

Kagome can only stare at him, and she keeps staring at him even as the driver takes her away.

The Sicarius doesn’t make another announcement, but Kagome hadn’t expected one. Whatever was happening with the hits was clearly an oversite, something missed. It won’t happen again. Kagome knows a lot about the dark, seedy underbelly of their city. Hakurei is pristine on the surface but muddied and dirt-smeared underneath. Naraku Morikawa must have some sort of control with Sicarius, even if just a tenuous truce.

It’s fine. Kagome doesn’t care. She just doesn’t want to die next time.

It takes weeks but eventually she heals. Eventually, she’s in good enough shape that when an order comes in and the target is supposedly only a few blocks away, she gets dressed. The familiarity of her guns, of her knives, sliding into their holsters brings a strange sense of peace. It feels good, she realizes.

Instead of dwelling on it, Kagome moves. She heads out, studying the photo of the man on the way. There’s no need to bring her motorcycle so she runs, blending into the crowds of people. It’s not even that late, which makes the hit a little interesting for once. Three a.m. kills are always so much simpler than midnight ones. She doesn’t dwell on the fact that this thrills her either.

The area the target is supposed to be is near the distillery district, a series of bottle and alcohol manufacturers, one after the other. It’s quiet, but Kagome can hear the sounds of life not too far away. Even down an alleyway, car lights fly by far too often. Pulling out her gun, Kagome gets out the silencer and attaches it, keeping alert in the shadows.

It takes twenty minutes until there are nearby footsteps that she can follow, and another three minutes until she can confirm that the photo on the hit is, in fact, the target. It’s a simple kill, after that. She sends the proof to Processing, feeling good as she tucks her cell phone back in her pocket and heads home. Leftover adrenaline floods her veins, a particular kind of high that stays with her as she enters her apartment building and heads towards the stairs. She never goes in the elevator, not if she can help it. She knows too many things to trust elevators ever again.

It’s when she’s approaching her floor that she hears it: a whine. Low, pained, and completely out of place. It doesn’t sound like a pet and Kagome instantly goes on guard, pulling her gun back out and slowly creeping upwards. First, she sees a foot, lying across the steps. Kagome doesn’t know how it clicks in her brain, but she knows that person, she _knows_ them. It’s Inuyasha. It’s Inuyasha.

How does she know it’s Inuyasha?

But she’s not wrong and suddenly Kagome is flying up towards him, taking in the slices all across the coat he’s wearing. There’s blood – so much blood – and the whole look is so familiar of the early years that Kagome physically recoils. “Inuyasha,” she whispers, hands seeking him out for a pulse. “Inuyasha, can you hear me?”

“Kagome,” he sighs, and she feels her shoulders slump of their own accord. “Had to—Had to come.”

“How did you know I lived here?” she asks, but this really isn’t the time and she knows it. Instead, she holsters her weapon and bends down to pick him up. Inuyasha is barely able to help her and by the time he’s mostly upright and leaning against the wall, the both of them are sweating. It feels like all of his body weight is leaning on her as she drags him out of the stairwell and into the hallway, struggling to open her apartment door and haul him inside. It’s ungraceful and Inuyasha is out of it, barely conscious. He has a split lip and there’s blood _everywhere_. Kagome doesn’t know what to do first.

The Sicarius, she thinks automatically. He needs medical attention and Kagome can only do the bare minimum. The thought of bringing him to the hotel is like a vicious stab of déjà vu, but she presses on, doesn’t let herself think about the past. Think about the Inuyasha of now, instead. Think about him and what he needs.

She orders a car but Inuyasha is covered in blood and bleeding absolutely everywhere. With limited options, Kagome drags Inuyasha over to her couch, thankful for the dark leather. She can clean the blood off later. For now, she needs to wipe the worst of it from his face and get him in new clothes, bundled. Maybe she can wrap him in something if there’s time to stop the worst of his wounds.

“Kagome,” Inuyasha says groggily.

“Inuyasha.” She’s barely paying attention, too busy rifling through her closet for something massive, something that will fit him and allow for bandages underneath.

“Kagome, you have to run.”

That makes her pause, but only for a second. Kagome sees an oversized sweater she got her hands on years ago and takes it, running back into the living room. Her phone hasn’t beeped yet so the driver isn’t near, not yet. She’s both thankful for the time and desperately anxious that it’s not fast enough. She doesn’t even know how badly he’s bleeding.

Her hands are shaking. Kagome stares at them in betrayal as she gently grabs the zipper of his jacket, dragging it down to show what’s underneath.

There’s nothing underneath. No t-shirt. No body-fitting undershirt. Just the long, overheated expanses of tattooed skin, all dark ink with splashes of colour.

Inuyasha coughs and his face contorts in pain. Blearily, he grabs at her hands, pulling her closer to him. Like she isn’t already close enough. “Run,” he whispers, and he sounds scared.

“I’m not leaving you,” she tells him firmly. “And there’s no one here. We’ll be fine. We’ll get to the Sicarius. We’ll be fine.”

“They’ll come,” Inuyasha chokes out, and he coughs again. It’s an ugly, pained thing. “Just like last time. They know.”

Know? Kagome frowns her confusion but Inuyasha is only barely looking at her, his dark brown eyes hazy with pain. “Inuyasha,” she tries, desperate for his attention, “what are you talking about?”

“Leverage.” The word is barely more than a breath, soft and weak. It chills her to the bone.

“What leverage?” Her mind instantly whirls, going to the only thing she knows for sure: Inuyasha has leverage on her, he knows a part of her history that she can’t ever hide away. He covered for her kill, saved her from those who would terminate her for violating the Code. “Inuyasha,” she presses.

He shakes his head and now his hands are cupping her face. They’re wet and it takes a second for Kagome to realize that it’s his own blood she’s been painted with. “No,” he says, like a declaration. Like a vow. “No.”

He’s not making any sense. Kagome whines in frustration. She needs to try and stop the bleeding. She needs to wrap him up and take him down to the apartment lobby before the driver arrives. They’ll need the time to get there. She goes to open his jacket wider but Inuyasha pulls her closer, forcing her to brace herself on his chest and shoulders, overbalanced and hovering above him. His nose is so close to her own that she can feel the whoosh of his breath as he shakily exhales.

“Inuyasha, I need to see,” she says.

“You don’t,” he argues. “It’s not you.”

What does that _mean_?

“Inuyasha—”

“Not your leverage,” he tells her. His face falls forward, knocking into her own head. His blood-stained hands won’t let go of her face.

“Then whose?” He doesn’t respond at first and Kagome jerks back, just enough to meet his hazy eyes. “Inuyasha. Whose leverage?” she demands.

He blinks at her and it’s only then that she wonders if he’s been drugged, too. Everything about the movement is so slow. “Mine,” he whispers.

The ice within her cracks, splits right down the middle and spreads, like frozen wildfire. Every part of her is cold with the realization. This is worse, she thinks. If it was her leverage, that was fine. She’s done what she’s had to do. She’s made a sort of peace, even if she doesn’t want to die.

But Inuyasha?

It can’t be him. It _can’t_.

“What do they have on you?” she snaps, suddenly angry. So much so that the ice melts and begins to burn, kerosene rather than frozen water. Her words light a match and the rest is a raging inferno. Kagome grabs at his hands on her face, holds them. The blood is forgotten. They’re so cold, she realizes then. He’s normally always so warm. “Inuyasha, tell me what they have on you.”

For some reason, this makes him smile. It’s a strange thing on his face, a piece that doesn’t quite fit. Kagome is so used to smirks, to looks that remind her of inside jokes and internal laughter at her expense. But this is a bowed curve, perfectly equal, and the smile is both the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen and the worst possible tragedy. His hands slip from hers, from her jaw, and he pulls his jacket open wider. Kagome gets a moment to see the expanse of his tattoo, the massive tree in a field, with flowers in long, untamed grass sliding down his abs towards his pants. His chest is a scattering of leaves and petals, all different colours, eye-catching and sense numbing. There’s so much to see, between those and the birds and the illusion of sunlight. What must he have paid for art like this, to turn his body – his weapon, his foundation, his killing instinct – into a piece of stunning beauty that should be framed and memorialized forever?

“Kagome,” Inuyasha breathes, and that haunting smile is still there. It’s only when she notices that he’s tapping on the left side of his rib, just under his pec, that Kagome sees it.

A single cherry blossom, pink and radiant, both unmatched to the beauty around it and yet somehow still hidden amongst the decoration across his skin.

A soul mark. His soul mark.

The same as hers.

“Oh fuck,” she whispers.

Her phone goes off. It chimes loudly though somehow, it’s incredibly distant, too far in the background. There’s screaming in her ears. _Screaming_.

Because Inuyasha is—

All along, it’s been him this entire time—

But when they first _touched_ —

“Kagome,” Inuyasha slurs and that forces her back, gets her mind back on the track it desperately needs. She sends a message to the driver to wait and then she’s grabbing at a nearby blanket to wipe the worst of the blood from Inuyasha’s face and neck. It comes off in smears and it’s far from perfect. The cuts and wounds from his chest look shallow but plentiful, and she can only assume his back is the same. She groans in frustration and does his jacket back up, pushing his body forward so Kagome can shove him into the sweater as well.

Inuyasha goes and it’s this level of easiness that makes her panic.

“You better not die on me,” Kagome hisses as she drags him bodily out the door. Inuyasha is walking, but at this rate it can barely be considered such. More aggressive leaning and stumbling than rightful steps. It’s enough. Barely, but they manage to get into the elevator. Kagome takes deep breaths as they’re trapped inside, fighting the irrational fear of being cornered.

Whether it’s luck or fate or whatever else it could be, they make it to the lobby without any interruptions. Inuyasha is mumbling but she can’t understand what’s coming out. He’s worse, she thinks. He needs help. It’s already been too long.

The driver stares in horror the moment he lays eyes on her, but Kagome tosses a massive wad of cash in his direction and that’s the end of that _._ In the back of the cab, Kagome grabs Inuyasha’s hands and pulls him close. He all but collapses on top of her.

“Don’t die,” she tells him again, over and over into the thick of his hair. Kagome closes her eyes and wishes for things that are impossible, things that only a naïve little girl would ask for.

She asks anyways.

The Sicarius looms in the distance and Kagome wakes Inuyasha as they arrive. The valet has to help her get him out of the back of the car and then the two of them are dragging him into the lobby, much to the sharp eyes of other assassins within the hotel.

The young woman at the front desk smiles at her, like nothing at all is wrong. “Kagome.”

“Doctor, _now_ ,” Kagome snaps, shocking the valet into moving still as she drags Inuyasha’s useless, drugged body to the room she knows the doctor will be in. The young woman at the front must have made a quick call – sent a message, _something_ – because the old man is already there with the door open, glaring at her.

“There’s no need to be rude,” he states, huffy.

Kagome is seconds away from taking out her gun and shooting him, Code be damned. “Just help him,” she says, and maybe it’s closer to begging than she’d like. Either way, she and the valet get Inuyasha on the bed and the doctor comes over, opening his eyes and checking for a pulse.

“Leave,” he demands then. She opens her mouth to argue but the doctor looks up sharply, a firmness in his gaze that Kagome knows she won’t be able to break. It’s a conviction that kicks her in the stomach, bowls her over. She’s useless here. She can’t do anything for him.

Inuyasha is drugged and bleeding and so injured he can’t even stay awake, and Kagome is hovering and hopeless.

She can’t save him. She can’t save her soulmate.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she snaps and whirls out of the room. Just like always, the front desk is suspiciously clear of people. It’s only that young woman, still idly smiling, standing and watching her approach like death isn’t impending. “Get me the Manager,” Kagome yells, overly loud. She’s aware of the heads turning, of the sound of chairs squeaking back as people stand to witness what’s happening.

The young woman’s smile changes. Kagome doesn’t know how to describe it. She doesn’t care to. “Certainly, Kagome. Give me a moment, please.”

Kagome pulls out a handful of jewel shards and leaves them on the counter as the woman makes a call.

“Sir,” the young woman greets, pausing only a moment before her eyes catch Kagome’s fierce gaze and she continues. “Your brother.”

Another pause and Kagome feels a constriction in her chest that wasn’t there before as the woman nods and lowers her phone back into its cradle. “What was that?” she demands, unable to stop herself.

The question is ignored. “The Manager will see you now. Head towards the elevator and use this,” she slides a card over, matte silver with a crescent embossed on it, “to get to the top floor. He’ll be waiting for you.”

Kagome stares at the card for a moment, knowing she has to ask. “Why did you say ‘your brother’ just now?”

“Kagome,” the woman says gently, head tilting forward earnestly like they’re good friends, old friends. “Take the elevator to the top floor. He’s not one for waiting.” She gestures behind her, suddenly, and Kagome whirls around to see the two twin bartenders standing close by, unthreatening and placid. “Ah and Un will make sure you don’t have any issues,” the woman continues, “and I promise if Dr. Jaken provides any updates on Inuyasha’s condition, I’ll send word.”

Slowly, she takes the card. It feels oddly heavy in her hands. Kagome nods, holding it close. “What’s your name?”

The young woman smiles. She’s always smiling. “It’s Rin,” she tells her. “Now, you really have to go or Sesshomaru will not be pleased.”

Kagome does.

* * *

When she saw the scene before her, Kagome didn’t hesitate. She pulled the trigger; once, twice, a third time. The shots rang out, overly loud, and bodies dropped to the ground after staggering from the blow. In the centre of the now-dead henchmen, on the concrete floor chained and beaten, was a familiar face. It was covered in blood and badly bruised, but she knew it.

She dreamed of it, far too often.

Kagome didn’t know why.

“Inuyasha,” she whispered, running over immediately. His eyes were open but they were glassy, the kind of gaze that was far and away because of the pain. She hesitated only for a moment, trying to assess which area to focus on first. There was a massive gash on his forehead, bleeding sluggishly across his face. Normally, you wouldn’t touch or help another assassin. Leave them for dead, that was the best policy. It was a policy that she should listen to, considering this was only the third time she had ever seen him.

Third time in real life. Her dreams didn’t count.

Kagome made up her mind, reaching down, fingers grazing bloodied skin—

Pain exploded in her side. In an instant, she twisted to shoot in the direction of her attacker, missing the first three shots but locating her assailant and landing the fourth. She got up, ignoring the bright and burning pain so that she could shoot again, one to the chest to make sure they were down and another to the head.

She wasted no time. Kagome ran back to Inuyasha, his eyes now closed. Her fingers found a pulse, thready but there. They barely knew each other, outside of those two other encounters where he yelled at her a lot. All bark and no bite. What could she do? How could she help him?

The Sicarius. That was the only option, wasn’t it? At least there he’d be safe.

“Kagome?”

His voice was weak but it still made her jump. She pulled her hand away from his forehead like he’d burned her, eyes wide as she took him in. Inuyasha was blinking slowly, face twisting into a grimace. “Don’t move,” she told him immediately. “You’ve been hit pretty badly. I’m going to get you out of here.”

“What—Kagome?” He sounded confused. He sounded like he looked, like he’d been beaten within an inch of his life.

“Yes, it’s me. I’m taking you to the Sicarius, okay? Just hold on.”

Inuyasha moved, despite her chastising. In the end, all she could do was help him, using gentle hands on his back and neck like at any second he would collapse again. Given how he looked, it was a clear possibility. “Why—Why are you here?”

“You don’t get to yell at me this time,” Kagome declared, firm. “I’m saving your life.”

He blinked at her, the movement far too slow. A hand came up, pressing against the curve of her elbow. “It’s okay,” he said, a little slurred. “You can stay.”

Oh god, the head trauma must be terrible. Gritting her teeth, Kagome held onto him, helping him to get up and barely keeping them both from collapsing when his legs gave out. Together, they made it to the Sicarius.

Inuyasha went in and out of consciousness, and Kagome stayed by his side. It felt like leaving would be the decidedly wrong thing to do, even though Inuyasha had always made it quite clear how much she wasn’t supposed to be near him. But despite everything, despite the years she spent hiding away from her family, trying to become a different person… She wasn’t. She was still that naïve little girl.

So she stayed. She waited. She sat in a chair in the hotel bar, one of the few tables that had a few of the main hallway. Exhaustion settled heavily over her, a cloak she wished to shed. Still, Kagome remained. Her head started to throb but it was no worse than her own bloodied injuries, the ones she refused to have looked at. She could take care of it at home, once she knew Inuyasha was safe. _Later_ , she told herself. She would deal with it later. The pain was manageable.

And when Inuyasha came out towards the lobby hours later, looking like death warmed over and wearing a grim expression, Kagome prepared for the worst even as she felt the world darken a little at the edges. Exhaustion, probably. Blood-loss, certainly.

“I meant it,” he told her then, sounding absolutely furious with himself over it.

Kagome waited for the rest of that sentence. When it didn’t come, she frowned. “Meant what?”

His frown grew and the hands at his sides clenched into fists. “Really?”

“Yes, really, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Kagome waved a hand at him. “Are you even okay?”

“Am I okay—” Inuyasha cut himself off with a growl. “I’m fucking fine. I’m fine and you’re allowed to stay.”

“Stay,” she repeated.

He glared at her. “For hits. In the city.”

Oh.

_Oh_.

Kagome grinned then and for a brief moment in time, Inuyasha’s look of begrudging irritation shifted into something else entirely. She didn’t know what it was but it was softer, somehow. A little incredulous. A little confused.

“You can stay,” he said again, like he couldn’t believe it.

“Thank you,” she told him, blinking away the black dots in her vision. “I guess saving you was the right call after all.”

Inuyasha tilted his head, his hand raising up like he was going to grab her before it dropped. “You felt it, didn’t you?”

In this business, you weren’t supposed to feel anything at all. Kagome pursed her lips, debating whether to answer. Her brain felt sluggish, like molasses had taken up residence and filled every surface. Could she trust this man, three interactions in? But Inuyasha was so beautiful before her, bloodied and strung out and still the best thing she had ever seen. Kagome shook her head, ignoring the pain that stabbed through her, and gave in. “Of course I felt guilty. I’m still human.”

The soft expression shattered. Kagome had one moment of fear, where the stillness between them seemed like an overstretched band about to break. This was a mistake, she realized. She should have kept her mouth shut. He was going to see her as weak. He was going to tell her to leave. He was going to—

“Guilty.”

Kagome did her best to scowl, knowing the effect did nothing to him. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“The only reason you brought me back was you felt _guilty_.”

Completely at a loss, barely able to think past the near-constant throbbing of her body, Kagome didn’t know how to respond. “Should I have let you die?”

“For fuck’s sake—No.” Inuyasha looked angry, _furious_ even. “Whatever. Just don’t make a habit of it. We’re not friends.”

“Just co-assassins,” Kagome agreed, trying to be amicable. She didn’t know what to make of his mood, why it changed so quickly. Maybe the bullet she took was less of a graze and more of a wound. Maybe she was bleeding a little too much to be healthy. It would certainly explain the way her vision was decidedly spotty, the way her mind couldn’t process his expressions, his meanings. It had always seemed so easy to read him before. With a dry mouth, she whispered, stupidly unsure, “Thank you?”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes and stormed out of the lobby. “Don’t fucking mention it.”

* * *

The General Manager of the Sicarius Hotel looks incredibly familiar.

The whole brother thing makes sense now. “Oh god,” she whispers, as the man in a bespoke suit moves towards her with a dangerous sort of grace. “You’re related. You’re Inuyasha’s brother.”

“Half-brother,” the man corrects. His tone is bored and disinterested but his dark brown gaze is sharp. Kagome stares at him and sees bits and pieces of Inuyasha: the eyes, their build, their jaw lines, the colour of their hair. But there are a lot of differences too, putting them at opposite ends of a spectrum Kagome hadn’t known existed.

Inuyasha is fire. He’s righteous anger and bubbling jealousy. He’s bursts of speed and sharp, harsh movements. His voice is gruff, like he’s always screaming. He does always scream, even if it’s just from irritation or bewilderment. He’s loud and fierce and burning – burning brightly like the sun that Kagome had been hopeless but turn to him, a cherry blossom fading in the light – and it’s wild and free.

This man… This man is ice. Cold, firm as steel and unapproachable. He’s said all of one word to her but Kagome knows, can sense it in the way he holds himself. He’s not happy she’s here. He’s not happy at all, and she witnesses these things in the minute clench of his jaw and the knife-edge cut of his gaze. He moves with a grace that seems to having him floating, lithe and smooth. If he attacked, Kagome is sure she’d never see it coming. It would be subtle warfare and she would be utterly destroyed in its wake.

It should scare her. It doesn’t. Inuyasha is her soulmate and he’s dying on the first fucking floor. If anything is going to terrify her, it’s going to be that. “Sesshomaru, right?” she asks, chin held high.

He doesn’t even flinch. “Why does it matter?”

Kagome only hums, considering. She doesn’t really have any other options though, and everyone she’s certain that knows something is already dead. “You have to tell me exactly what happened.”

This causes Sesshomaru to raise his eyebrows the slightest amount. It’s the most miniscule sign but she can tell that he’s surprised. It could be at her boldness. It could be at the question. Kagome’s pretty sure it’s the first one. “You’re aware I’m the General Manager,” Sesshomaru explains, tone of polite disinterest. “I don’t have to do anything.”

“Inuyasha is dying.”

“He’s a fool.”

Kagome narrows her eyes, the same rage that was fueling her in the lobby reigniting in the wake of the man’s lack of care. “Excuse me?” Sesshomaru stares at her for a moment more before turning around. It’s not a dismissal, or at least she doesn’t think so. Kagome follows, undeterred even if it is. “He’s your brother and you’re calling him a fool? For what?”

Sesshomaru twists to lean against his desk, a glass and metal monstrosity that looks like it could break at any moment. Those dark eyes assess her and find her lacking. “You should know better than I.”

“What the fuck does that _mean_?” Kagome exclaims, completely over it. All of the half-sentences and barely formed words. All of the frustration and unanswered questions. She came for a purpose and she’s damn well fucking getting it or the entirety of the Sicarius Hotel could burn. When Sesshomaru simply stares at her, she storms forward, intent on getting into his space. Suddenly, the two bartenders are beside her, grabbing her and hauling her back. Instinct drives her to slam her fist into the neck of one of them, shaking off their grip to rip around at the other. She’s punched in the face so hard she sees stars, but Kagome hits dirty and tackles him, using her lower centre of gravity to drive them both back. There’s a hit to her back, her sides, and Kagome accepts them until she punches at his groin, twists to kick at his knees. She kicks once, twice, a sick snap echoing in the room just as another set of hands grab at her from behind.

“Fuck _off_ ,” Kagome screams, pushing with all of her weight up into the air so that the bartender has to carry her. He stumbles off balance, just enough for Kagome to push herself back upright and shake his grip, her elbow flying backwards. It barely connects but it doesn’t stop her, forces her to whirl around and land a solid punch that has her knuckles _screaming_.

“Enough.”

“Fuck you,” Kagome spits, watching as the other bartender falls. She can’t look at Sesshomaru right now, even if he’s asked her to stop. She’s going to attack him next and this is already an unforgivable action. Sesshomaru could terminate her for what she’s just done, even if they grabbed her first. There’s no fighting on Sicarius grounds. This was very much a fight.

“Ms. Higurashi.” There’s nothing else said. Kagome takes another breath before spinning around, ignoring the twinge of pain to her cheek when she clenches her jaw.

“What?”

Sesshomaru spares the briefest glance towards the two bartenders before he exhales. It’s only the slightest parting of lips and there’s no sound to be heard, but Kagome knows it’s a sigh nonetheless. “Wasteful.”

“Tell me,” she demands. Her gun is still in its holster and taking it out at this point would be asking for death. Still, her fingers itch to grab it. “I can’t let him die.”

The Manager stares at her for a moment longer. Another assessing gaze and Kagome is sure that he still finds her lacking, even after taking out Ah and Un. It doesn’t matter. Only one thing matters and he’s on the first fucking floor. Kagome watches as Sesshomaru’s hands grip at the edges of the glass desk, a momentary loss of control. His voice, however, is cool when he asks: “And why is that?”

“Because he’s my soulmate,” Kagome answers. “And if he dies, I have nothing left to lose.”

“Wouldn’t that be preferable?”

“No.”

“And why not?” Sesshomaru’s dark gaze is still cold. It’s like being interrogated with an icicle at your throat, dangerously close to death with a single slip. “Nothing to lose is what most of our clients most desire.”

“Then they’re lying,” Kagome states, shaking her head. “Because if I have nothing left to lose, I have nothing to kill for either.”

Those eyebrows raise the slightest amount once more. She sees it for the barest of seconds before Sesshomaru stands back up, rounding his desk towards the chair. He sits down, taking his time to steeple his fingers and glare at her some more. It feels like an eternity has passed before he continues, voice flat, “What I tell you now cannot leave this room.”

“I understand.”

“Or Inuyasha will be terminated,” Sesshomaru states ruthlessly. That stare bores into her once more.

Kagome nods. “I understand.”

There’s a second of silence as the Manager considers, his hands dropping to hang loosely over the armrests. It’s a strange view, considering what they’re about to discuss. “One month ago, you nearly died. As a consequence, all hit orders had to be temporarily suspended until an investigation was completed.”

Slowly, she nods again. She does not understand where this is leading to.

“The hit that nearly killed you was a planted one,” Sesshomaru explains. He doesn’t look sorry or sympathetic. The man states facts like one would state the weather. “A hit intended to capture one of our Sicarius clients, to be killed and used as a message.”

It clicks then, tiny puzzle pieces slotting into place. “Naraku Morikawa and his gang. His men were being taken out too quickly and he wanted to put a stop to it.”

Sesshomaru nods, the barest fraction of movement. “The hit was planted by him, through various means, of course. Over the past several years, Sicarius clients have been hitting at his group of wayward thugs. Never for direct purposes, merely because they all have their bloodied fingers in so many pockets. Someone is bound to come after one, and they inevitably end up dead.”

“Then what changed?”

“Six months ago, a portion of his business was seized by international authorities. His position within the world of organized crime was tremulous at best before. After, it was shredded. But the hits on his men remained and each death posed a greater hole in his network.”

“So he wanted Sicarius to stop,” Kagome says. “It just so happened to be me that got to the target first.”

“You were ambushed.”

“They were going to throw me in the lake,” she points out, frowning. “How is that a message?”

“Not all of you would have been thrown in.”

Kagome tries not to wince, but it’s hard not to. The memory of the attack hasn’t faded, not over a mere thirty-something days. She pushes it aside. “But Inuyasha saved me.” Sesshomaru nods. When he says nothing else, her hands fly up in exasperation. “And?”

“Is the next bit not obvious?” Sesshomaru taunts. His expression grows impossibly colder. “Is the death of Naraku Morikawa and the men that attacked you not an obvious enough clue as to what happened in the weeks proceeding your recovery?”

“What?” she asks, blinking. “What do you mean?”

“Naraku is dead.” The words are flat, toneless. Sesshomaru’s glare is somehow even more dangerous. “And only two people know who killed him and a large chunk of his crew.”

“You’re one of them,” Kagome points out.

“And the assassin who killed him is the other.”

Inuyasha. Of course it’s Inuyasha. The knowledge feels like a punch to the gut, breathtaking and nauseating. How could she have been so blind, to have ignored the world while it was still spinning outside of her apartment door? She hadn’t known, and she hadn’t tried to find out. But while she was recovering, Inuyasha was out on revenge, hunting down the assholes who nearly ended her life.

Because he knew that she was his soulmate. Because he had been the one to save her, to take care of her. He had seen her soul mark.

Or had he known from the very beginning? Soulmates were supposed to know the moment they touched each other, the feeling that overcame them too noticeable to ignore. But Kagome had been shot trying to save him and Inuyasha had barely been conscious, completely out of it by the time she had returned to him.

Or had he felt it, had he known, and that was the reason he’d been awake at all that horrible, terrible evening?

Years flitted through her mind and Kagome found that every conversation they had had could have meant something different. Maybe Inuyasha had known all along, but then why wouldn’t he say anything? _Had he_?

“I told him that if he went after Naraku, this would happen.” Sesshomaru isn’t impassioned as he speaks. “Like I said: foolish.”

“How did any survive?” If he killed Naraku – if he murdered those who had hurt her – then who was left?

“You truly think that Naraku was the only dangerous criminal in that ring?” Even inflectionless, it comes across as disdainful. “There are many more.”

So the remaining men, in Naraku’s gang or purely through association, came after Inuyasha. He murdered their leader and they planned to take him out in revenge. They had found him and they had attempted to murder him. How he had even managed to escape and get to her apartment was a mystery.

“They won’t stop then,” Kagome murmurs, a dawning horror that creeps past her lips. “Naraku’s gang was one of the largest in the country.”

“ _The_ largest.”

Sesshomaru stares her down when she meets his gaze. She can’t get a read on him; this man is not Inuyasha. There’s something there, though. Something that Kagome recognizes: it’s blood-curdling and horrifying. It’s the exact same feeling from years ago, when with shaking hands she ran across the campus, cell phone clutched so tightly Kagome thought it would break.

That’s it, then. One option.

“General Manager,” Kagome says. She widens her stance, squares her shoulders. One option and it will not be lost to her. “Take me to the sommelier.”

* * *

If Kagome was to remember, she would remember only this:

Inuyasha’s wide eyes when he saw her next, rain pouring down around them. He was soaked to the bone, black hair plastered across his forehead. There was blood dripping down his arm, barely noticeable as more than a sheen on his black fighting suit.

Kagome wasn’t in any better condition. She was gasping for breath, down on one knee with both hands on the concrete. Her nails were broken, bloody and dirt-caked. Around them, the world seemed dull. Thunder echoed in the distance, the rain pouring down so hard that it nearly drowned the rumble out.

“Kagome!” Inuyasha yelled. He didn’t run to her. He stood there, watching. If anything, it looked like he was breathing harder, like this was far more dangerous than anything else that had happened before. Like he hadn’t just saved her life from that crazy, gun-wielding woman. Like this was far worse.

Spitting out blood, Kagome licked at her teeth. All there still. A miracle, honestly.

“Kagome!” he shouted again, partially drowned out by thunder cracking in the sky, far louder than any roar before. Unexpectedly he was by her side but oh, wait. Kagome blinked and instantly regretted opening her eyes. Why, suddenly, was she staring up? Had she blacked out? “You _fucking idiot_ ,” Inuyasha yelled at her. His face was furious.

Weakly, she patted it, too tired to even smile. “Let go,” she grumbled.

“Are you _serious_?” But Inuyasha was standing up, dragging her along with him. It took a few moments for her legs to hold firm, but once they did, she stumbled away from him. “Why did you go after them?”

“A target is a target,” Kagome tried.

He made a face at her.

“A target is a target!”

“I fucking heard you the first time!” With that, he ran at her, grabbing her and dragging her away. Away from the dirty alley, past the garbage and blood-stained puddles. Kagome didn’t even know where they were. She had lost all sense of direction and it wasn’t until her back was slammed into a door, the rain no longer pouring on her, that Kagome was able to blink and finally _see_.

“What are you doing?” Kagome asked, eyes instantly locking to where his hand was wrapped around her wrist.

Inuyasha noticed but his lips pursed. He didn’t let go. “That was reckless as fuck.”

“You know what we do for a living, right?”

“Extra reckless.”

“I’m alive.”

“Because of me.”

“Who says ‘because of you?’ I would have been fine on my own.”

Inuyasha’s eyes widened, mouth opening to yell: “Are you fucking _serious_?”

“Stop asking that!” she snapped. “And let go of me!”

“Why should I?”

A good question. Kagome opened her mouth to retort but found that she couldn’t because the truth? The truth was far worse. The truth was that she didn’t want him to let go. But that was dangerous. That was inviting her doom, a leverage she couldn’t get rid of, and Kagome had debts to pay. She had to fulfill her promise, avenge her family.

And it wasn’t like… It wasn’t like it mattered anyways, did it? Because they were touching, and they had touched before and nothing—

Nothing had happened.

Drawing her arm back sharply, Kagome couldn’t help but press her hand against where her soul mark was on her ribs. She drew in a shaky breath. “Thanks for saving me.”

Inuyasha looked torn, grimace sliding into an unhappy frown. “Kagome—”

“But you need to stop,” she told him, trying for something light. It missed by a mile. She tried again. “People will talk, you know? It’s bad enough we’re two assassins in the same city.”

“That’s your fault,” Inuyasha growled.

Kagome shrugged. “It’s not like we’re soulmates, right?”

That made him blink, freezing instantly. It was a stark contrast from the pouring of the rain beyond him, sliding down in sheets. She couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand seeing him like this. Her entire body hurt, everything was throbbing in pain, but somehow this was far worse. So much worse.

She knew why. Kagome wasn’t stupid. She looked at his face and knew. Knew it like the first time she saw him, the way every part of her turned to face him like a flower to the sun.

_Naïve little girl_ , she thought. _Ridiculous_.

Forcing a laugh, Kagome pressed up harder against the door, closing her eyes. “How bad would it be to be both soulmates and assassins? They’d be dead within the week, if someone found out. That’s enough leverage to destroy anyone’s livelihood.”

Inuyasha took a step back. She fought down a shiver. She wasn’t cold. That wasn’t why.

“Right,” he said, nodding.

But she couldn’t stop herself. It hurt worse and worse, but she couldn’t stop. “Good thing we aren’t soulmates, huh?”

“Yeah,” he told her, turning away. “Good thing.”

* * *

Every step feels like the world shifts on her shoulders. The fitted suit is perfect, barely heavier than regular fabric. It makes no difference though, none at all. Because this is it.

Sesshomaru had simply given her an address and had dismissed her with a glare. It was obvious what the trade was and Kagome didn’t plan on going back on it. She had one chance and one chance only. Kill them all without getting caught, or die. A second chance would lead to termination.

The Sicarius could never be so generous.

The motorcycle speeds through the dark streets, barely a semblance of light up ahead. She knows this is the place though and revs the engine higher, goes faster, faster, until the building is in sight and that much closer. She can see men moving around, guns blatantly strapped to them. They stare at her in confused incomprehension, a flying motorcycle in the dead of the night.

Kagome brakes, lets the motorcycle spin wickedly as it slides, and pulls out her guns.

Bodies drop. She’s barely even seeing. There are only flashes, muzzy in the dark cover of night. There are screams and pinging, guns wailing in their own ways. Kagome gets knocked down with each bullet, stopped completely by her suit, and she fires a headshot back so quickly that there’s no chance for them to correct their mistake.

Outside, it falls oddly quiet.

Kagome wrenches open the doors and gets to work.

There’s blood on her hands, but there always has been. Ever since she was a naïve little girl, listening to the words of her grandfather and sitting in disbelief. Her father, murdered? Her father, who tried to save lives, wasn’t worth anything more than a bullet?

But there was justice, wasn’t there?

And she had believed that, then. Her grandfather had, too. Or maybe he hadn’t. Maybe that was why he continued to pursue. Maybe that was why he grew bolder in his reach, more pointed in his asks. There was no maybe about why he was dead.

Kagome ducks, kicking out her leg to knock an assailant to the ground. Another comes at her from behind and she blocks a fist with her forearm, other arm coming up. Headshot. Blood splatters across her face. She twists, arm coming down.

Chest shot. Headshot.

She runs.

There’s blood on her hands, but there’s always been. The blood on her face is new, dripping down her forehead and into her eyes, blinding her. But this is justice in its truest form.

Men and women run out from dark corners and Kagome doesn’t stop firing. She pushes forward, spins as a bullet grazes her arm and shoots. Headshot, down. Chest, chest, head, _down_. Tackle to the side, forcing her to grunt, elbow automatically coming down on top of her assailant’s head, getting just enough room to knock him back and chop at his throat. She rolls, shoots another person coming towards her before taking out the man desperately trying to breathe on the floor.

She makes her way through the warehouse. It grows quieter as she goes, nearly silent as she climbs the metal stairs to the second level where the offices are. Kagome moves, footsteps light, dark gaze constantly looking around. A shot fires and Kagome nearly stumbles as she pulls back, the wall splintering right in front of her. Kagome fires three shots – the first two miss but the last one stays true – before more come at her from behind.

It’s a brawl and it stays bloody. But it’s the blood that’s keeping her alive, thrumming through her veins. It pumps, roars, screams in her head as she ducks, takes a hit, fires her weapon. The empty clips fall to the floor as she exchanges them, never missing a beat. Bloody tears run down her face and Kagome doesn’t bother to wipe them away.

When all is silent, she makes for the final destination.

It was the only warning Sesshomaru gave, if you could call it one. A tiny note just under the address on the slip of paper he gave her: _the office_. Kagome has no idea what to expect. It will not stop her.

The door is already open. It’s the office, it has to be. The closer she gets, the more she can hear the sound of soft music playing. When Kagome enters the room, a man sits at a deck, drinking scotch. The thought of Inuyasha staring into his own, dragging words from his lips as he asks her questions, firms her resolve.

“You must be the Miko,” the man says. He’s angry; that much is obvious. It’s in the way he holds himself, in the way his jaw is clenched and his eyes flit to her and away.

Kagome shrugs. “If you want to call me that, sure.”

The man mistakes her indifference for confusion. “Do you leave anyone much time to tell you this nickname before they gasp their last breath?”

She thinks of the bodies littering the warehouse floor, the stairs, the concrete outside. “No.”

The man scoffs. “Should it be an honour to be the one to tell you?” Kagome doesn’t correct him, doesn’t tell him that she’s already aware of her legacy, a blood-stained autobiography that speaks only of death. The more Kagome watches him, the more she sees. He’s both older and younger than she had expected. The criminal underground is run rampant with old men with even older money, but Hakurei is young and thriving, a perfect place to rise from the murky shadows. Those who are young and bold and unafraid of death rise quickly. That’s what had happened with Naraku, from what little she knows.

“The Sicarius has gone rogue,” the man continues. He pauses only to take a sip of scotch and his eyes, a golden-brown in the dim lamplight, bore into her. “Wiping out a business that has nothing to do with you.”

“It’s got nothing to do with the Sicarius,” she answers honestly. “You tried to murder me first.”

“You killed Naraku.”

Kagome raises her gun. The ascent is slow but there’s no threat here. “I didn’t,” she tells him. “But my soulmate wasn’t too pleased.”

The man arches a brow. “Ah, right. The Demon of Hakurei.”

This, however, is a name she’s never heard. Maybe Kagome needs to have another conversation with the General Manager of the Sicarius after all. “Is there anything I should call you?” she asks.

The man shakes his head, puts down his glass and leans into the leather of his chair. His gaze never leaves hers. “No, but you’ll never destroy Arachnid’s network. This is just a drop in the bucket. You and your Demon? This won’t be the end.”

Kagome fires one shot to the chest. She watches as his eyes widen in shock. She takes a step forward so that his dropped gaze never leaves her, so he can see as she aims for his head.

She fires once more.

The blood on her face blinds her, falls onto the concrete. These are tears of justice.

* * *

It only got worse.

Far, far worse. Hakurei was a big city, but it was a dirty one. There was an underbelly to it that refused to go away. Crime was everywhere, leeching in the corners, thriving. It refused to give an inch. The bustling people made it that much easier for those who wanted to hide, who wanted to shield themselves away from the world to do more wretched things.

It made the Sicarius Hotel extremely profitable.

It made the hits all that more frequent.

And Kagome? She saw Inuyasha a lot. Not every time, but enough that it was strange if she hadn’t seen him in a week, bloodied or smirking or with a gun in hand, firing away at some assholes who deserved it.

It was easy to get distracted.

“Kagome!” Inuyasha screamed. There was a gunshot, another. Fired in quick succession. The weight at her back disappeared and Kagome staggered back, barely keeping her footing. It hurt to breathe.

Right. The knife in her back.

“For fuck’s sake, _Kagome_.”

“Inuyasha,” she choked out. Her knees screamed in pain. The ground was moving, coming closer.

She was breathing in the dirt.

There was pressure on her back, wild words being yelled. It took a few moments before the world righted itself, became less heavy. A hand pushed back her bangs and suddenly, she could see. Inuyasha looked terrified, or as terrified as she had ever seen. She blinked, confused. “Inuyasha?”

“Don’t fucking move, you idiot. I’m getting help.” Despite the harshness of his words, there was a desperate edge to the sound of them. He tore at the bottom of his shirt with a knife, cutting up strips. She saw the gleam of ink across his torso. It reminded her of something. It made her think of things she shouldn’t.

When Kagome tried to laugh, Inuyasha cursed her out. It made the next words even sweeter. “Didn’t expect her come to at me.”

He made a noise she couldn’t quite parse. “You killed her soulmate. Of course she was going to come at you. You’re a fucking idiot. I saw their matching soul marks from all the way on the other fucking side of the alley.”

Kagome hadn’t seen, hadn’t known. Probably why she never expected the woman to grab at the hidden knife from her dead husband’s belt and throw it at her. The hit had only been for him, but as it turned out, they were partners in life and in crime. The knife throw was only inaccurate because Kagome had noticed something was off at the last second.

“Soulmates,” she whispered. Dirt covered her lips. “Good thing we haven’t found ours.”

The only reason Kagome knew Inuyasha froze was because of his intake of breath, sharp in the otherwise quiet night. It made her watch him from the corner of her eye, the way his body stilled and did not move for one heartbeat, two, three.

And then suddenly, a rough noise of irritation. It barked out of him as he snapped, a hand of his bracing too roughly on her back. “I fucking have a soulmate.”

Oh.

Kagome gasped but her entire body was alight. Pain echoed into every crevice of her core, latching onto muscles and dancing through her veins. The pressure on her back eased and it was only then she heard the high-pitched whine, the noise that came from her very own throat.

“Fuck,” Inuyasha hissed and there was a hand, now, brushing against her forehead once more. “Kagome? Kagome!”

Inuyasha had a soulmate. That—Kagome realized there was a very real possibility that she could die but somehow, her brain was far more focused on this. He had a soulmate. That was—

That was—

“Kagome,” Inuyasha pleaded. It sounded like this wasn’t the first time he’d said her name. Not even the second or the third. “I have to leave but I’ll be back. Don’t you fucking die on me, you hear?”

Inuyasha had a soulmate.

“ _Kagome_.”

It was the desperation that did it. Kagome breathed out, as sure and simply as she could. “Inuyasha.”

His hand brushed across her forehead once more and Kagome let her eyes close at the feeling. _Later_ , she told herself, pushing all other thoughts aside. What was the point in worrying right now? She could die. Was it not better to remember this second?

When she opened her eyes again, Inuyasha was gone. She was on something soft, comfortable, and that shocked her into movement.

“Hey, take it easy,” an unfamiliar voice said. Before she could launch herself away, a face appeared before her, the man ducked down so that they were nearly eye level. He was elderly, with big eyes and unruly salt and pepper hair. He tutted at her. “I’m a doctor. You’re safe here, but you must not move. Not yet. Not until I tell you so.”

“Inuyasha?” she asked, immediate.

The doctor pursed his lips. “A friend.”

“No,” she argued, planting her hands on the bed to try and sit up. The pain was immediate, dropping her back down without fanfare. Her face was pressed into the white sheets, her vision going dark. Through laboured breaths, she forced out the rest. “No. Where is Inuyasha? Where is he?”

“He left,” the doctor told her. There was a gentle pat to her arm and it was enough of a distraction that it took a moment for her to feel the pinch at her neck, a needle sliding in. “I promised him I would take care of you. Now rest.”

“Inuyasha,” Kagome tried, but the world was suddenly heavier.

“Rest,” the old man murmured, carefully arranging her so that her face was outwards, able to breathe. “You can see him later.”

Later didn’t happen for four more weeks.

* * *

The Sicarius Hotel is a shining beacon in the otherwise dark night. Kagome stumbles towards it, feet continuing even when her mind demands rest. She does not stop. She does not dare to.

It’s the early morning, though the sun won’t make an appearance for another couple of hours. Kagome feels the exhaustion weigh heavily on her, heavier still because her body is giving out. Adrenaline has long since left, a fleeting friend that died and shrivelled away the moment she stepped outside of those warehouse doors.

The odd car drives past her but she pays them no mind. She only hopes that none of them look too closely, or deign to stop. She needs to make it back to the Sicarius, to Inuyasha, and her motorcycle was damaged beyond repair. Too many bullets in places that needed to run.

The valet sees her first. He’s an older man, with greying hair and a thin mustache. Even from a distance she can see the way his eyes widen and then he turns tail, running into the hotel. That’s good, probably. That means they’ve been waiting. Kagome climbs the very first step and very nearly collapses. It takes several long pulls of breath to push aside the nausea and restrengthen her will. She takes another step, eyes glaring at the swaying ground beneath her, when another pair of shoes enter her sight.

The General Manager of the Sicarius has come out to personally greet her. Sesshomaru looks as expressionless as he had when she left him. Small comforts in the familiar.

“Is it done?” he asks.

Kagome nods once.

“Follow me.”

The lobby of the Sicarius is strangely empty. Only Rin, the front desk clerk, stands tall and cheery as ever. There’s still that smile but it’s etched with something Kagome can’t read. She wants to understand it but she’s already too confused by the emptiness of the building, too distracted by the empty chairs and tables by the bar. The Sicarius is home to assassins around the world, visiting and permanent. Its sacred grounds for their kind mean that no matter the hour, there is always someone up, someone planning, someone waiting.

“Did you do this?” Her voice is wrecked, which is strange. She doesn’t remember ever screaming.

Sesshomaru doesn’t deign to answer but Rin’s smile widens, grows.

They do not go towards the doctor’s office. In fact, they head further into the belly of the hotel than Kagome’s ever ventured before. Two guards stand by an opening. They acknowledge the Manager with the bowing of their heads, eyes still suspiciously cast upon her. Kagome has to breathe to remind herself that she’s safe here. Her hand still wishes for her gun.

A single elevator waits for them. It opens immediately as they arrive and Sesshomaru steps in without hesitation. Kagome follows. She’s too tired for questions and the hotel manager is not forthcoming enough to give them, even if she asks. They go up.

When the elevator doors open, the first thing she sees is him.

“Inuyasha?”

He’s there, lying on a couch that’s only slightly off to the side. They’re in some sort of meeting space, luxurious couches and chairs and high-topped tables scattered everywhere. Not a desk is to be found. Kagome has never known of the existence of this place. She would wonder about this, but her mind is taken completely at the sight of Inuyasha sitting up, pained grimace painted across his face.

“You fucking _idiot_ ,” he snaps. “Why would you do that?”

Kagome brushes past Sesshomaru, not stopping until Inuyasha is right in front of her, his knees pressed against her legs. He tilts his head to glare up at her, fury radiating from him. It’s familiar. Kagome almost cries.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” Inuyasha growls, hands clenching into fists by his sides. “You could have gotten yourself killed.”

“How long have you known?”

The question blurts out of her before her mind is even conscious of considering it an option. Kagome watches the play of emotion slide on Inuyasha’s face – on her _soulmate’s_ face – and realizes that she can recognize every single one of them. Despite everything they’ve been through, this feels more intimate than any interaction before.

Unsurprisingly, Inuyasha lies. “Known what?”

“That we’re soulmates.” It’s easy to say out loud. In fact, it doesn’t hurt at all.

The glare lessens but his mouth twists unpleasantly. There’s a moment’s consideration before he turns completely to stare at something beyond her. “Get the fuck out.”

“No,” Sesshomaru says simply. Kagome twists to see him settle in a high-backed chair opposite them, his cold gaze assessing as always. “There are terms to be discussed.”

“We discussed them.”

“You and I did,” Sesshomaru corrects. He sounds bored, a complete contrast to the fire of Inuyasha’s building irritation. “She and I did not.”

“No trace, no proof, no termination,” Inuyasha argues. “Any evidence breaks the terms.”

Sesshomaru’s eyebrow twitches slightly, the equivalent – Kagome can only guess – of a glower. “That is the sum of it.” He shifts his attention to her then. It is no less icy than before. “Do you accept?”

“Do I have a choice?” she asks, wry. The General Manager remains still, waiting. Kagome sighs. “Accepted. Though I have a question.”

“I’ll answer for you,” Inuyasha cuts in. “He won’t say shit.”

“Not even when the Miko of Hakurei is asking?”

For a long moment, Inuyasha just stares at her. It’s enough to see the truth in his eyes. “Kagome—”

“So it was you then,” she pieces together. “Not your brother.”

“Half-brother,” they correct at the same time. Kagome scowls.

“Well,” Inuyasha starts, defensive. “What the fuck was I supposed to do? Your dumb ass was running around Hakurei killing people way better than you. Legends are harder to kill. People do dumb things when they’re scared out of their minds.”

“And when did this start?” The Miko nickname has been around for so long, Kagome can’t remember when exactly it was first heard. If Inuyasha was the one to spread it, if Inuyasha was the one to create it…

“When I knew.”

Kagome knows the answer but she has to ask it again anyways. “And when did you know?”

“When you touched me.” Inuyasha stands up then, forcing her to take a few steps back to make room. She’s still within his orbit, drawn inexplicably in like she always is. “Everyone finds out that way.” There’s accusation in his eyes, a storm there that Kagome recognizes now, years later. It’s familiar, a haunting look that came not once, but twice, long ago. When he was telling her that she could stay in Hakurei, asking why she saved him and all, and the time after that, with rain pouring around them and a brand across her wrist.

“I was shot,” she says slowly, admission as much as an apology. “Right when we touched. You were hurt. I didn’t—If I knew—” She cuts herself off because no words compare. His hand falls across her waist, secure and warm. Kagome tries to remember to breathe. “I wouldn’t have said those things.”

Inuyasha watches her, like his gaze alone can tell truth from lie. Maybe it can. He’s known her for years, has seen her at her worst and at her best. On top of roofs and in the dirt, crawling through sewage. He has been there by her side, organized chaos. “I thought you were trying to make a point.”

She shakes her head. “No.”

He opens his mouth but shuts it just as quickly. His worldview has to change and Kagome allows the seconds to tick by, to let it happen.

“I liked you even then,” Kagome tells him gently, a caress of words. “And I was scared.”

“You’re not scared of anything.”

She shakes her head. “I’ve always been scared of you. Of the person I become.”

There’s a moment of silence. Inuyasha continues to watch her before his dark gaze slides to the side where their sole audience waits. She had forgotten in the midst of everything that Sesshomaru was still there. “Get the fuck out, Sesshomaru.”

“This is mine,” his half-brother reminds him tonelessly. “Though your room on the seventh floor is ready.”

He looks back at her, all fire to brace her from the icy cold of the other’s man words. “We’re not going to make it,” Inuyasha explains, the quirk of his lip a delightful stir within her.

“You will—”

But Inuyasha leans down, capturing her lips. She wraps her arms around him instantly, gentle and possessive in equal measure. The man before her is hurt and broken, but she wants him entirely. She wants him to own her entirely, like every time before. There has never been another. There will never be another.

Inuyasha turns her around, pushes her down into the couch and she falls willingly, lets the comfort of the cushion swallow her. Greedily she reaches for him, wanting like she always does. Inuyasha follows because he can’t not. She sees that now. She sees it in the way he touches her, in the way his dark eyes meet her, in the way he’s always turned to her, waiting and watching and wanting.

“You have an hour,” Sesshomaru says suddenly and then there’s the ding of the elevator. A sliding of doors. A silence that permeates the room, broken only by their harsh breathing.

“You’re terrible,” Kagome tells him, absolutely delighted.

Inuyasha smiles. “You inspire the best.”

When he kisses her into the cushions, demanding every inch of her, Kagome gives.

* * *

She fell in love and there was nothing she could do about it.

Kagome accepted her fate unlike anything else in her life. This, she didn’t fight. What as there to really argue against? Inuyasha had a soulmate and it wasn’t Kagome.

Ducking down behind a half-wall in some alleyway, Kagome sighed. Beside her, Inuyasha scowled. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

Kagome glared at him. “This hit is mine. Why are you even here?”

She pushed down her feelings, pushed them far and away. There would be time for that later, when she was alone in her own tiny apartment, waiting for the next hit order to come in.

_Later_ , she promised to herself.

_Later_.

* * *

There is a later.

Later, pressed together on a familiar mattress, the only thing between them their sweat-soaked skin and stuttered breaths. His hand is pressed against a familiar spot on her ribs, the cherry blossom as soft and smooth and radiant as ever.

Later, sitting atop a roof waiting for the mark. Inuyasha nudges her as he points out a potential escape route, a way for their hit to run that’ll make the chase harder, more fun. Kagome dares him to let the mark get that far. Inuyasha rolls his eyes, says he doesn’t trust her to not steal the kill. When he comes down to it, and the target runs, Kagome shoots him in the leg. With a flourish she gestures towards him, grinning. Inuyasha takes the final shot.

Later, drinking at the Sicarius Hotel, a fruity martini and a scotch on the rocks. They make it halfway through, ignoring the gazes of those around them, before they stand up in sync and head towards the elevators. There’s a permanent room for them, should they want it, and they head there together with fingers entangled as mouths gape open around them.

Later, laughing in the pouring rain in that very same alcove. This time Inuyasha doesn’t let go of her wrist but Kagome tells him anyways she doesn’t want him to.

Later, back-to-back and fighting through a swell of thugs that just won’t _go down, for fuck’s sake, Inuyasha_.

Later, heading into their shared apartment, barely letting the door shut before Inuyasha’s body is pressed against her, lips stealing breath and thought and desire. Kagome pulls him closer, lets her hands roam under the tight shirt he wears during their hunts. Her fingers touch a mirrored mark, their soul mark, and she could swear she feels the petals of it as if it were real, thrumming between them as burning as their love.

Later, a target between them. Inuyasha on one side and Kagome the other. A shot is fired, the body drops.

“That was mine,” he tells her immediately, grabbing his cell phone.

“Fuck you, it was not,” Kagome retorts. “Right in the heart.”

“Mine was the neck.”

“You can survive a neck shot like _that_. It’s pretty much a graze.”

“You can survive a chest wound. I would fucking know.”

His dark gaze meets hers, challenge simmering between them. Kagome doesn’t look away but she does smile. Absently, she waves her gun around, gesturing towards the dead man. “Fine then, all yours.”

Inuyasha smirks.

It doesn’t matter: Processing sends the money to a newly-made joint account. He still gloats, gives off a smug aura that lasts until Kagome punches him in the arm, presses him up against the nearby brick wall. Inuyasha gasps when his head hits, but it doesn’t stop his grip from wrapping around her even tighter.

Around them, their city hums.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am completely blown away by the response to this story. Thank you all so much for your generosity, and your support, and your love. I adore you greatly.
> 
> As always, feedback is love.


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